


how the light gets in

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: (about felicity dying), (i mark the chapters that are explicit so they are easy to skip), (more tags to come), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergent, Canon Universe, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Fix-it, Episode Related, Episode Remix, F/M, Felicity Smoak Has Nightmares, Felicity Smoak is Pregnant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Future Season 7, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Married Couple, Married Olicity, Married Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Nightmares, Oliver Queen Has Issues, Oliver Queen Has Nightmares, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Season/Series 07, Smut, Speculation, Spoilers, i can't stay away from spoilers, i mean oliver and felicity have a lot to deal with after season 6 okay, i'm a spoiler addict, there's gonna be some issues and i don't know what yet but there's gonna be issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-06-28 20:37:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15714660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: "There is a crack in everything/That's how the light gets in."My ficlet collection forSeason Seven.It will (hopefully) come to include speculation fics, wish fics, canon fics, elaboration fics, pretty-much-everything-related-to-Season-Seven fics...This collection is rated Mature as of right now. If it changes to Explicit, I'll put it in the Author's Notes.





	1. Right Now (Season 7 spec)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Leonard Cohen.
> 
> I have more wishes and thoughts and desire, etc. for Season 7, including all my S7 fics, [here on my Tumblr](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/tagged/my-fics%3A-season-7)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 7 Spec. “Right now I just want to go to bed with my husband.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this gif last night and my brain spiraled out of control. Rated PG.

“Where are you going?”

Oliver stopped in the doorway. He hesitated and her gaze burned into his back, setting off a flutter of nerves in his stomach.

He turned to her. To his wife. His chest tightened like it had every other time he’d looked at her over the last seventy-two hours. She stood next to the bed, barefoot, two-day old wrinkled clothes hanging off her frame. Her long hair was draped over her shoulder, the faded pink still present. She looked as tired as he felt, and he knew it wasn’t just the last few days he was seeing. It was the last six months, of being on the run, being forced into hiding, having to support herself and William, having to live a life without him, without her friends, without her family.

_Alone._

Just like him.

They’d had to hit the ground running, fast and hard, with no time to reconnect, to talk, to do anything past a quick hug, a brush of their lips, and a rapid-fire conversation about their son. And then it was just the mission. And it wasn’t over yet. There would be more running in the morning. No rest for the weary, she’d joked. Diaz was out of the picture, but now they had to fight back the tides of Diaz’s men… deal with Oliver breaking out of prison… face a life they both had to leave when he agreed to Agent Watson’s deal.

But they had a moment now, in the temporary apartment ARGUS had procured for them. William was asleep in one of the other bedrooms, Lyla and Diggle were across the hall, the rest of the team scattered at their respective homes.

They had a moment, but…

“I didn’t want to assume,” Oliver said.

Felicity just stared at him.

As the silence stretched on, all the unspoken things between them slowly morphed into a scream, filling his ears until he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want to make the first move. He didn’t want to make the _wrong_ move. Things were so fucked up right now, and the last thing he wanted to do was give her more reason to push him away. She’d already had enough.

So he waited.

When she finally moved, Oliver choked out a gasp, a sheen of tears blurring his vision. His thumb raked over his index finger as he watched her, fighting to keep his emotions at bay, watching her for any sign that he could do something. That he _should_ do something. He wanted to, so badly he could _taste_ it, but he would wait for her.

He would always wait for her.

There were only a few feet separating them, but it was an eon before she finally reached him.

Felicity cupped his face and Oliver damn near collapsed into her. It was different, with his beard, but it was still her hands touching him, and as she ran her fingers over his jaw, it suddenly didn’t matter that it was there. She touched him with a gentleness that ripped his insides to pieces, cracked open his heart, shredded the wall he’d been hiding behind just to survive. She brushed her fingers over his cheeks, his brow, his nose, touching his scars, old and new, the cuts and bruises that were still present, the lines that hadn’t been there before. She ran her hands up over his temples, over his closely-shorn head, taking all of him in, broken pieces and all.

She didn’t say anything. There was too much to say, and not enough time, and they both knew it. But she didn’t have to for him to see that there was a wall in her eyes, one that had never been there before. Her own version of self-protection that she’d had to build.

With a ragged sigh, Oliver raised his hand to her cheek, to soothe her pain, but he paused just before touching her.

He couldn’t, not without knowing it was okay.

“Felicity,” he breathed, her voice cracking, and he curled his hand into a shaking fist, pulling it away.

She didn’t let him.

Felicity caught his hand in hers and wrapped her fingers around his. It was an invitation back into the world he’d known and he gasped, losing himself in the sensation, in how soft she was against his harsh exterior, how her warmth seeped into his cold, scarred skin.

“I know there’s a lot we need to talk about,” Felicity whispered. “A lot to figure out, and we will. But not right now.” She cradled his hand to her chest. “Right now I just want to go to bed with my husband.”

Not waiting for a response, Felicity stepped back, pulling him with her.

He went without a single argument, because he didn’t have one. He should, and he knew that, but he wasn’t going to say no. He needed her, needed the forgiveness and light and _love_ he saw in her eyes, despite the wall there.

Tears filled her eyes as she stared at him, and she pressed her lips together to keep them from falling.

He hoped she saw the same in his eyes, saw the love and gratitude and fear and hope shining in his, all of it for her. He thought maybe she did because she nodded, giving him a tiny smile, before urging him to the bed.

They laid down, carefully, so aware of each other it hurt. She took the lead, urging him onto his back, and he followed, responding to her every move, to the pull she created, the center of his world. She crawled on top of him, straddling him. She pushed her hair out of the way as she looked down at him, as his hands found her thighs, barely grazing them. The weight of her body against his felt so good on his, heavy and warm and perfect…

But it was so foreign at the same time.

He froze, unsure how to proceed, what to do, how to act.

“Oliver,” Felicity breathed.

He shuddered, his eyes slipping shut before flying back open. She covered his hands with hers and pressed them closer. He stopped breathing as she slid them up over her hips, up under her shirt, to her waist.

“Touch me.”

She sat up just enough to pull her shirt off, her bra quickly following, leaving her bare to his gaze.

“Felicity…”

Her name came out on a broken gasp and it finally hit him that he was home. He was back. He had her back. It wouldn’t be easy. But then again, nothing ever was, not with them. But that’s what made it so worth it, made moments like these perfect, moments to be treasured, to hold onto when things got hard, when they hit the bumps in the road. It was moments like these that reminded him that no matter what they would always have each other. They would have this, their love, their acceptance, their hope.

Oliver breathed her name again, a beautiful litany, and then he touched her, reclaimed her, sliding his hands up her back, pulling her to him.

The first crack in her wall appeared and she fell forward, her lips crashing into his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/177099623559/ficlet-right-now-olicity-s7)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!


	2. Breaking Point (Season 7 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a silly fic that I wrote last night. I really wanted to write something for Season 7, and I did a dumb thing in Blood Hands so I was jonesing for something else to dive into. Then I saw a prompt and, well, here we are. This is a silly fic, but it's also got serious undertones based on what we've seen so far for Season 7. So it's not totally light, but the subject matter is light!

“It’s a good thing,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “It’s good.”

But it wasn’t. It was bad, so bad she was three seconds away from screaming her throat raw.

Except it _was_ a good thing, and that only made it so much worse.

Oliver had been out of Slabside for three months now, three of the hardest months of their lives. That she could think now that without crying was a minor miracle. How many more times would they be expected to go through literal hell? How much longer could they survive getting ripped apart, yanked further and further away from their Happily Ever After? Their world had seen more shattered pieces than whole ones and it’d only reached a new low when Oliver had gone to prison, leaving her alone and so angry that she nearly lost herself along with everything she held dear.

They’d survived it, though.

 _Barely_.

It hadn’t taken them long to discover that getting back to each other had been the easy part. The outside forces bearing down on them had absolutely nothing on the bleak desolation of trying to reconnect again only to discover they’d both changed, irrevocably, and that no matter what they did or how much they wanted it, there was no going back.

She’d lost count of how many times they talked about throwing the towel in.

But at the end of the day, that wasn’t who they were, and it was that sheer stubbornness that was saving their marriage. They’d learned the hard way that it was connections like theirs - the love they shared, the life they had created together - that kept the darkness at bay.

While they still had moments of weakness, they never let go of that, or each other.

But everyone had their breaking point.

A deep, rending snore echoed from her husband’s side of the bed.

“Oh my god,” Felicity groaned. She pulled her pillow around her head, shoving it against her ears. His next one was even louder and she swore her pillow vibrated with the force of it. “ _Oliver_.”

He didn’t wake up.

Never in her life would she have guessed that Oliver Queen snored. Probably because she had never heard such earth-splintering noises come from him in all the years they’d known each other. His bed had been throwing distance from her desk at the old foundry, and not once had she heard a single peep from him. She barely heard him _breathing_ , much less making sounds that resembled a wrecking ball smashing their walls in. So no, snoring had never been on her list concerns when it came to this man.

It wasn’t until they were a few months into their lives in Ivy Town that she first heard just how loud he could be at night, and it hadn’t taken her long to deduce why:

He only snored when he was really, truly asleep.

When Oliver let his guard down, when he relinquished control, when he completely relaxed, that was when he snored. It had become her secret barometer for his current state of mind - only when some part of him deep down reached a certain brand of contentment did he fall asleep like this.

Another snore split the night air.

It was sweet, in a very annoying sort of way. She loved that she gave him that peace, that he was comfortable enough again to let go, falling into the kind of sleep that was more coma-like than anything. He was safe with her. She was his home, as much as he was hers. It really was sweet, so much so that she’d actually missed it, had even cried herself to sleep during those months when he’d been at Slabside, knowing that she might never get to hear it again.

All those tears had come back in a happy deluge when he started snoring for the first time in years a few nights ago.

She’d woken him up with a mess of kisses, needing to show him how grateful she was. Not only did she have her husband back, in their bed, in their home, their family back together, but it also meant that all the turmoil they’d been dealing with since he got out was starting to abate.

But then it’d happened again the next night… and the next… and last night… and tonight…

His next snore razed the frayed edges of her sanity.

Whimpering, Felicity turned away from him, burying her head under the comforter. She counted, sang a song, tried to distract herself with Smoak Technologies plans, stared at sheep jumping over a fence, shoved her fingers in her ears, nudged him with her foot, rolled into him, yanked his pillow out from under his head, trying to dislodge him so he could at least snore _quieter_ …

But it didn’t work.

She stacked the pillows over her head, shoving them down as hard as she could.

His snores sliced through the pillows like they were tissue paper.

Felicity _snapped_.

With a sharp, “Oliver!” she kicked the man she loved more than life itself as hard as she could.

Oliver jerked awake with a bleary, “Wha…?”

He shot up, his hand finding her hip, making sure she was okay as he scanned the room, looking for danger.

She ignored him completely.

“Ooh,” Felicity moaned. She actually _moaned_. She should probably care that she’d startled her husband like that, and she would in the morning when she remembered all the renewed nightmares he still suffered from, but the silence that followed was just so _blissful_. She came up from under the pillows with a desperate, “Oh, that’s so much better.”

He grunted. “Snoring?”

The word was so thick with sleep she barely understood it.

Her groan was answer enough.

The mattress bounced as Oliver laid back down. He snatched his pillow back before scooting over and plastering his chest to her back. He wrapped her up in his arms, snuggling close. When he pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in, Felicity sighed and leaned back into him. She was annoyed, and _tired_ , but he was also her husband and he felt so good. His limbs were heavy with lethargy as he kissed the nape of her neck with a murmured, “Sorry.”

“I’m really glad you don’t have that stupid beard anymore,” she whispered. He gave her an amused huff. “And yes, _snoring_. It’s _horrible_. This is the fourth. Freaking. Night, Oliver. If you drive me out of this bed, I will never forgive you.”

“I’ll stop,” he promised, the words slurring together, both of them knowing he could, in fact, not.

“If you can do that,” Felicity said, covering his arms with hers and snuggling back against him, “I will definitely, definitely make it worth your while.”

A lazy grin pulled at his lips and he nuzzled her with a low, “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she confirmed, nuzzling him back. As they relaxed into each other, she closed her eyes, giving into her very dire need for sleep. “So worth it. You won’t be able to move when I’m done with you.”

“That sounds good to me…”

His words drifted off and a second later she followed, both of them falling asleep this time.

Until he started snoring again, right in her ear.

“Damn it, Oliver!”

…

When Felicity walked into their bedroom the next night, something waited for her on her pillow: wax ear plugs.

“What are these?” she asked a sheepish Oliver.

“I mentioned to John that I’ve been keeping you up and after laughing at me for five minutes straight, he told me his dad had the same problem with his mom. He said he lived by these.”

They worked. Felicity slept through the entire glorious night and when she woke up the next morning, it was with a huge grin and plenty of energy to make good on her promise. And, just like she said, it did take Oliver several hours to crawl out of bed when she was done with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/178951338059/breaking-point-olicity-s7-spec)
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews feed the soul and muse.


	3. Madness (post 7x01)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he closes his eyes now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post 7x01. Angst Warning.

  
([gif src](http://oliverfelicitygifs.tumblr.com/post/179099467874))

“I love you…”

Felicity pressed her fingers to the thick pane of glass separating them.

Oliver fought to keep still. He bit the inside of his lip, tearing at a deep cut that had barely closed from the fight. Pain burned through him, but it was nothing compared to the emotions tearing his chest to shreds. He wanted to rip the phone off the wall. He wanted to spin around and break the guard’s face behind him. He wanted to punch through the glass and hold his wife, protect her against the danger she was walking into, put his body between hers and anyone who came after his family. He wanted to scream and rage and fight, but…

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t do anything.

_Please. Please don’t do this, please don’t do this, please._

Desperation choked him, helplessness winding around him until all he had left was darkness.

Oliver’s gaze slid down to her fingers where she reached for him. It was a beacon - _his beacon_ \- and he raised a shaking hand.

“And I will always…” Felicity said as he touched the glass. There was nothing but the cold. The world slipped away from him as he looked back at her, her words so far away. “Always wait for you.”

 _Warmth_.

Oliver started, his eyes flying back to where his fingers touched hers.

_The glass was gone._

He gasped and pushed his hand closer, sliding his fingers between hers. The wounds on her knuckles were red and angry under his touch, and she flinched, but it didn’t stop her from grasping him back, so tight it hurt.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he looked at her. “Felicity?”

He blinked and the wall between them was gone.

Oliver surged to his feet, pulling her off the stool and into his arms. Felicity whispered his name, her voice cracking as she wound her arms around his middle, burying her face in his chest. He curled around her as much as he could, holding her tight, needing to be closer, so much closer, to pull her into him so much that nobody dared come near her ever again. He slid his hand up her back and into her hair, cradling her against him, her name a litany on his lips.

This was everything he’d been fighting for. And it was all worth it, just for this moment, just to be able to hold her, to feel her breathing, to know she was okay.

Something hot and wet soaked into his shirt.

His own tears burned his eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he told her, shaking his head as he tightened his embrace. “Don’t cry, baby.” The heat spread. Oliver choked out a sob of his own, but it was a happy one, and with a smile he pulled back to look at her, his hands moving to her face, to wipe away her pain. “Felicity…”

_Red._

It was everywhere. It smeared her chest, his shirt, the floor, so much of it, more than he’d ever seen, the dark liquid gushing from a ragged hole over her heart.

Shot. She’d been shot.

He couldn’t protect her, even here, in his arms.

“No,” he whispered.

Felicity numbly glanced at the wound, her mouth moving like she was trying to speak, but nothing came out. She looked back up at him, her face slack, shock and horror making her eyes glassy. She opened her mouth to say his name, but there was only more blood. So much blood.

_Too much._

She fell, her legs giving out from under her. He tried to catch her, but she was dead weight in his arms and they fell together in a tangle of limbs.

“No,” Oliver pleaded, covering the bullet hole, pressing his hand against the flow, but it wasn’t enough. He rocked her, trying to stop it, but blood pressed between his fingers, coating his hand. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t save her. “No, no, no, no, no… Felicity, no, please, no, no, no…”

“Oliver.”

He looked up.

Diggle sat before him, his face hollow, his eyes dull.

“She’s gone. Felicity’s gone.”

*

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

Oliver’s eyes snapped open.

The stained ceiling of his cell stared at him.

“Morning, 4587. Beautiful day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Macha is partly to blame for this. She posted a drabble and I blame that for this.)
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/179156624834/madness-olicity-post-7x01)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.


	4. Together (post 7x12)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 7x12. Felicity tells Oliver about William, but it’s so much more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately after 7x12. I have a lot of feelings about the show right now and I needed to add to what we saw last night.

_“DNA Match: Oliver Queen.”_

The mechanical voice made his lips quirk as he opened the door. The smile disappeared when a dark apartment greeted him. Oliver frowned, shutting the door with a quiet snick. The lights under the cabinets were set to low, casting the rest of the open space in deep shadow. The curtains were drawn shut, blocking the city lights, giving him the impression it was closer to two a.m.

It wasn’t that late, was it? He’d spent a few minutes talking with Dinah after the mayor’s decision, figuring out the best way to bring the rest of the team onboard that would best benefit the city. They couldn’t stay at the SCPD headquarters. It was bad enough with Oliver there, stepping on everyone’s toes, but adding the rest of the team? That would push buttons they didn’t need to push. The bunker was trashed, but the structure was still there. It just needed a little work. He’d planned on talking with Felicity about it…

Except she wasn’t up.

Oliver’s frown deepened. It had been a long couple of days, though, hadn’t it? The cameras following him everywhere had taken a special toll, and on top of that contending with the mayor while someone specifically targeted vigilantes? And now William was home. A lot was happening.

He ignored a guilty twinge in his chest - _he should have been_ here - and shrugged out of his coat. He hung it up in the coat closet, careful to keep the lines straight before closing it as softly as he could. He glanced down the hallway next to the kitchen.

William’s door was closed tight, no light coming from under the door.

The fact that it was closed at all had joy springing up in Oliver’s heart. It’d stood open for months. But his son was home now. Oliver closed his eyes, letting that sink in. He and Felicity had gone out to visit him when he’d first been released, but they hadn’t seen him since. He couldn’t wait to sit down with him and hear about what was happening at school, see how he was doing, catch up on everything new in his life.

He moved towards William’s room, wanting to check on him.

A muted sob reached his ears.

Oliver froze, his heart dropping as his head whipped towards the bedroom. “Felicity?”

He was at their room in a couple strides, pushing open the partially shut door.

The small light on her nightstand was on, highlighting where his wife pushed herself up into a sitting position, her back to him. She tried to surreptitiously wipe her face under her glasses before glancing back at him with what she thought was a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, moving to her side.

Felicity wiped her face again. “I didn’t hear you come in. Which is sort of a fail on my part, isn’t it? Spend all this time on a security system and I’m not paying enough attention for it to work.” Her voice cleared as she spoke, but he could still hear the tears she was trying to hide from him as he sat down next to her. “I should get on linking that to my phone so I can have it ready in here. Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay,” Felicity insisted, giving him a brighter smile. It didn’t reach her red-rimmed eyes.

“Felicity-”

“You’re home late,” she said, standing up. She couldn’t stop wringing her hands. “Did things not go well with the mayor?”

“No, they went fine,” Oliver replied, fighting the urge to get up and follow here. He stayed where he was, watching her. “Better, actually. But that can wait. Did something happen? Did… Is William okay?”

Felicity’s laugh came out on a croak. “Well… That is the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Her eyes filled and she rolled her lip together as a tear fell down her cheek. Oliver was on his feet in an instant and coming towards her, but she stopped him with, “He got expelled, Oliver.”

“What?” Oliver gasped. He shook his head, his mouth moving, but no sound came out. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, wiping her face too hard. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “He told me after I confronted him about not taking his exams. You know that website we’ve been visiting? The emails we’ve gotten, the texts? All of it was fake. He coded all of it so we would never know. I would be really impressed if I wasn’t so angry and… and…” Her breath hitched, her voice cracking. “Oliver, I’m sorry.”

He blinked, her words not comprehending. “Why in the world are you sorry?”

“Because you trusted me with him,” Felicity said in a tiny voice. Oliver’s heart broke and he shook his head - _no, no, this isn’t on you_. He reached for her, but she backed away, digging her fingers into her sides so hard it hurt. “You trusted me and I ruined it. I ruined everything. You left and it was only me and look what happened. I couldn’t… He was doing so good before all this happened and I couldn’t keep him on that path. I couldn’t do it! He’s just so angry, Oliver. He trusted me to keep him safe and all I did was leave him at home to eat crappy sandwiches he had to make himself and then I upped and shipped him off to boarding school after he begged me not to and what kind of mother am I?”

Oliver’s voice broke as he whispered, “Felicity.”

“I’m sorry, I’m… I’m sorry,” she repeated, dropping her face into her hands. She curled in on herself before looking up again, wiping her tears away. “I know this isn’t the time for this. I shouldn’t…” Felicity closed her eyes and he could see her fighting to keep the tears back, but the dam had broken. A choked sob fell out as she shook her head, covering her face again. “Damn it, I didn’t want to do this with you here.”

That cut deeper than anything ever could.

“What are you talking about?” Oliver asked.

“I’m trying to be strong,” she said, the words coming in a rushed cry. “I’m trying to be strong, Oliver, because you… you’re different! God, it sounds like it’s a bad thing. It’s _not_. Of course you are. We both are. And I’m not trying to push you or make things worse, because I know you’ll work through whatever you need to work through, I know you will. You always do and I’m trying to be patient, because _we’re_ still here. You and me. So you’ll be normal, and I’ll be normal. We’ll get there. So I’m trying, you know? I’m trying to make things as normal as possible. For both of us. For all of us. So we can get back to that. I need to get back to that, Oliver. You said all those amazing things about changing and evolving and even though it was so weird hearing it coming out of Barry’s mouth, I _felt_ how much you meant those words. I felt it. So I’m trying to be normal! The new normal, our normal, whatever that is, I’m trying, because I know you aren’t there yet, not for you, not in your head, and maybe if I keep acting like everything is normal, it will actually _be_ normal. I’m-I’m-I’m trying to pretend like my curtains aren’t bulletproof, or like I didn’t almost shoot someone in cold blood, or like my son doesn’t look at me like I’m the worst person on the planet for tearing him away from the only family he has left-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Oliver breathed, wrapping her up.

Felicity shook her head, pushing on his chest, but he didn’t let her go. He didn’t dare. He held her tight, curling around her, clinging to her like he hadn’t done in months. His chest caved in at that thought. For all his talk about their relationship never changing, about how he felt about her never changing, he was doing a piss-poor job of showing it. And of recognizing that the beautiful strong façade she put on was just that sometimes: a façade.

Just like his.

She finally collapsed against him, and then she was hugging him back, her hands curling into his sweater.

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I… I don’t… I’m…” He leaned on her, more than he had in a long, long time. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

She stilled, holding her breath.

“I spent so much time thinking about what would happen when I got out, about getting home to you and William, about being a family again, and then I got it, and I’ve… I’m trying, too, Felicity. I’m trying to be here, but I’m… _disconnected_. I’m trying not to be. I don’t want to be, but I’ve never felt this way before, I don’t know what it is or why I’m feeling it, I’m…”

Oliver shuddered at his admission and burrowed further into her. She cradled him to her, and for the first time in a long time, he felt some of the weight on his shoulders dissipate.

“That might be normal,” Felicity eventually said into his chest. “I  mean, after prison, after all of that, I think that might actually be… kind of normal.”

The irony of her words after everything she just said hit them both at the same time. A small, broken laugh fell out of her, her shoulders shaking, and before he knew it, he was chuckling. The laughter was choked and strained, but it popped the bubble of anguish surrounding them.

When it finally subsided, they stood there, holding each other.

“You should talk to someone, Oliver,” Felicity whispered and he sighed. But he didn’t disagree. “You’re not infallible, you know.”

He huffed. “I should say the same to you. You’re an amazing mother, Felicity. I see it every day, I see it in how you talk about William, how you’re always thinking about him, how you’re trying. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

She gave him a shaky sigh. “Thank you.”

Oliver pulled back to cup her face. He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “I know I missed a lot. You went through just as much as I did, Felicity, and I want to know all of it. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from me.”

Felicity sighed and her hand found his cheek. She scraped her nails through his stubble. “I just see what you’re going through every day and I’m… I don’t want to add to it, Oliver.”

“You’re not.” Oliver leaned into her palm. “I swear you’re not.”

“I think it’s going to take a while for us to get used to having someone there again, you know?” Felicity said softly. “But we will. No matter what happens, or how much we change… or grow or evolve…” They both smiled at the callback to his speech to her. “We’ll always be here. We just need to get better at remembering that.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We should start with what we’re going to do about William.”

Felicity sighed and then nodded. “A plan. We need a plan.”

“And we’ll come up with one,” Oliver told her. “Hopefully it works, but the important part is that we’re coming up with it. That we’re working on it. Together. Everything will be okay as long as we’re together. I’ll definitely need you if the plan fails.“

She smiled, and this one reached her eyes. “We’ll just come up with another one.”

He grinned. “Together.”

“Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse! 
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/182589764384/together-olicity-post-7x12)


	5. You Wouldn't Dare (post-7x13)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity has some thoughts about Oliver keeping his hair so short.
> 
> (A sequel to my ficlet "[give me something (to hold on to)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888871/chapters/31505925)" from Season 6 when I had my first meltdown about Oliver's short hair...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I understand the idea behind Oliver's hair this season, I do, and I even like it because of the reasoning... but _seeing_ it all the time is something else entirely. Okay? It just is. I _love_ Oliver's hair. And so does Felicity. Because I said so. I was having a conversation with Meg about ficlet ideas and this idea popped up and well, here we are.
> 
> Also, there's a lot of doomsday talk going around right now about the flash-forwards and Oliver's entire lack of being present and it's so depressing and I really needed some goddamn _fluff_.
> 
> I used an old dialogue prompt from a wonderful anon to get this started.

**“You wouldn’t dare.”**

“Wouldn’t I? Haven’t we been here before, Oliver, haven’t we already visited this particular arena?” Felicity wiggled the electric razor where she held it over the railing of the balcony. He took a step closer and she widened her eyes threateningly. “I’ll do it.”

“This is insane.”

She went very still. “Are you calling me insane?”

“No, no, of course not.” Oliver held up a placating hand, but when that got him nothing, he raised both. “I’m just saying… that this…”

Okay, maybe he was calling her insane.

When the words wouldn’t come, he just waved at her. His wife was a sight to behold. Her hair was a riotous mess of sex-slash-bed hair, all of it topping off a thinning t-shirt with a cat on a laptop on the front and bright orange panties. And that was it. Thank god it wasn’t cold out. Not that she would feel it. Her inner temperature had done a complete one-eighty since getting pregnant - where before she was always seeking out his body heat for warmth, now she was her own personal sauna. They’d tossed the comforter in the closet weeks ago.

And now apparently she had a new penchant for rolling out of bed and launching into the bathroom where he’d been about to shave his head to steal his razor. He’d barely caught a flash of color before she’d snatched the damn thing out of his hand and took off.

He tried another tactic.

“You’re going to hit someone if you drop that,” Oliver said. She faltered and Oliver stole the moment to take another step towards her. “I don’t think we need potential murder-by-flying-electric-razor on top of everything else right now, do we?”

Felicity stared at him for a beat, her face unreadable. For a second he wondered if he’d taken it too far before her lips quirked. With a roll of her eyes, she pulled the razor back from its potential doom. “It might be worth it, if it got you to stop shaving your head every two weeks.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “It’s bothering you enough to risk cracking someone’s skull?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Felicity let out a loud sigh and looked down at herself. She pursed her lips, like she hadn’t realized what she was wearing. Or _doing._ “Okay, I might’ve gone a little overboard.”

“A little?” Oliver asked, a smile playing on his lips. It felt safe enough to come closer. She didn’t throw the razor off the balcony, which was a good sign. When he reached her, Oliver smoothed his hands over her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I told you why I’ve been shaving my head.”

“I know,” she replied, bouncing a bit. There was a slight whine in her voice that had him huffing out a chuckle. “And I understand, I do. But also, like… Oliver, the hormones this tiny little fruit-sized creature is shoveling through my body right now are literally driving me crazy, and I just…” Felicity lifted her free hand up to his head and made a clawing gesture where hair should be. “I really miss _grabbing_ it and _touching_ it and how it feels on my thighs and stomach and, god, when you do that thing where you put your head right here…” She touched her neck as her lids grew heavy. “And you’re all sweaty and you’re inside me and… and… and I’m just insanely horny all the time now and your hair was so sexy and I just miss it, okay? Is that so bad? Am I bad person for wanting that? Oh god, I am, aren’t I? I am. You have honest, legitimate, psychological reasons for keeping your hair short right now and I’m over here making you feel guilty because my libido is out of control! Okay, hearing all of that out loud, I might definitely be insane.”

Oliver laughed. “No, I don’t think you’re insane.” He kissed her. “I think you’re amazing. And incredible. And sweet. And _sexy_ …”

He kissed her again, running his tongue over her lips. She opened for him on a moan. Felicity pushed up onto her toes, winding her arm around his neck as she deepened the kiss. Her passion swept him up and with a content sigh, Oliver fell into her with abandon. William had been gone for almost a month now and Oliver missed him with a fierceness he couldn’t begin to describe… But the ability to kiss his half-naked pregnant wife without worrying whether their son was going to walk in any second was definitely something he enjoyed.

The kiss quickly heated up, especially when Felicity arched her back and pressed her breasts into his chest, her hardening nipples evident even through his sweater.

“I do miss you grabbing it,” Oliver admitted breathlessly, his lips barely leaving hers. She whimpered in agreement. “Pulling… and tugging…”

Felicity lifted a leg to wind around his. “Okay, now you’re just being mean.”

He chuckled and pulled back to look at her. Her lips were swollen, eyes glossy with need, her skin flushed.

 _Stunning_.

Oliver kissed the tip of her nose before capturing her lips once more.

“I could try,” he offered.

“Yeah?” Felicity blinked and fell back to her normal height. “But I don’t want to push you into it. I realize that’s kind of what I’m doing and I don’t want to do that. Ignore me if I’m doing that. No, yell at me. Just yell at me right now. I’m not trying to make you feel bad for shaving.” At his raised eyebrow, she added, “I’m serious, just yell at me, Oliver. Pregnancy is making my brain wonky. Well, wonkier.”

“No, I know.” He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “But I think it might be good. It’s been months and… One step at a time. Right?”

Felicity smiled. “Right.”

“But I can’t start now.”

Her face fell. “Why?”

Oliver laughed when she tried to school her features and utterly failed. “Well, you sort of already started for me earlier…” He turned his head to show where a thick strip of hair had already been razed off.  

“Oh. I did that?”

“You did that.”

“Oops. Well, I guess I’ll have to find a way to make it up to you then, now won’t I? Or me, rather. Or… us? I’m not sure who won here. Or if there is a winner. Is there a winner?”

He nuzzled her nose with his. “I think we both won.”

“Both. Yes. I like that.” Felicity hummed and kissed him again. “Both is good. We should go back inside and… collect our winnings…”

Oliver would have laughed if she hadn’t just intensified the kiss, effectively erasing any thought from his brain.

“Yeah,” he managed. “We should… do that…”

And they did. :)

The End  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/183148211009/you-wouldnt-dare)


	6. We Can Do This (post-7x13)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity tells Oliver she's pregnant. Takes place immediately post-7x13.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick right now, with something, I don't know what, but I can't sleep and I'm excited about Olicity being pregnant and I hope we get a scene with Felicity telling Oliver tonight because if we don't... I'm not trying to be dramatic here, but I'll burn the world down. Anyway, have a sick-cotton-brain ficlet before tonight's episode.
> 
> Anonymous Prompt: "soooo can we get a felicity-tells-oliver-she-preggo fic"

  
[gif src](https://olicitygifs.tumblr.com/post/182749660359/hi-dr-schwartz-is-everything-okay-oh-good-i)

Oliver knocked on the bathroom door. “Felicity? Hey, you’ve been in there for a while, I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

A rustle of clothes sounded like she was standing up, but that was it.

He frowned. “Felicity?” 

When nothing happened, he stared at the doorknob, contemplating just walking in there before realizing that was an asinine thing to think much less do. She clearly wanted alone time, especially with William leaving, and he got that. He’d been secretly relieved when she ran out for a few minutes after the Claytons left, needing to get his head on straight. Really, needing to remind himself that this was the best course of action for William. Because it was. That didn’t change that his son leaving - _choosing_ to leave - left a gaping hole in his heart that he wasn’t sure he’d ever fill again. But then Felicity had come back and disappeared into the bathroom.

That had been nearly an hour ago.

If she could just tell him she was at least _alive_ in there…

The door opened. 

“Hey,” Oliver breathed, a smile tugging at his lips. “I was thinking about dinner and wondering what you…” Felicity grabbed his arm before he could finish and pulled him into the bathroom. “Uh, okay, are you… Is everything alright?”

She didn’t say a word, stepping back and wrapping her arms around her middle. Oliver waited, but she was silent.

And staring at the bathroom counter.

With a furrowed brow, Oliver turned to the counter. He froze when he saw what waited for him there. His heart stuttered to a sudden stop, his stomach slamming into the bathroom floor.

Seven pregnancy tests sat on the counter. Seven _positive_  pregnancy tests. 

“Dr. Schwartz called me,” Felicity said. “That was the call earlier, it was Dr. Schwartz calling me about all my blood tests.”  


His heart seized and he whipped to her. “Oh god, what Stanley used, did it…?”

“I’m okay.” Felicity’s hands shifted to hover over her stomach. “We’re okay.”  


He knew what was happening, logically, on some level. But the actual confirmation was a whole other thing. Oliver didn’t realize he had tears in his eyes until he blinked and one slid down his cheek. “We?”

“I’m pretty sure that the blood test is the definitive test for pregnancy, but hearing it and seeing it are two very different things and I had to… see it. So I bought every single test in the market downstairs and now… I see.”  


“You’re pregnant.”  


Felicity nodded, her lips trembling. “I’m pregnant.”  


His head spun. He couldn’t think, couldn’t comprehend. His brain just _stopped_. But his heart? Joy filled his heart in a thick, heavy rush that nearly sent him to his knees. He grabbed the edge of the counter, his fingers knocking some of the tests. He looked back at them - they were real. 

This was real. 

“We’re having a baby,” he said.

“Yeah,” she whispered.  


All he could do was stare at his wife, slack-jawed, before her appearance finally registered. She was pale, her eyes wide, tears on the brink of falling. Vulnerability was etched over every single inch of her and she hadn’t moved. And she hadn’t told him right away. 

“Is this… okay?” he asked. “Are you okay?”  


“Are _you_ okay?” she replied. “I mean, this… after William and saying we could do it but then realizing we can’t because of how dangerous our lives are, especially _now_  that everyone knows who you are and what we do, and that’s why we agreed with sending William away, right, why we thought that was a smart thing to do for his safety, but now… Now we’re… we’re having a baby. We’re having a _baby_.”  


“Yeah.” Oliver inched closer to her. “This is… it’s good, right? This is good.”  


“Yes,” Felicity said in a rush, nodding rapidly, letting him see the glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “It is, right? I just… I need to know that you’re good with this, that this is good, that you’re… good.”  


“I’m good,” Oliver said, smiling. He nodded, the smile growing as he grasped her hips. “I’m good. I’m very, very good.” He slid his hand over her stomach, his breath catching, the strangest sense of wonder hitting him square in the chest. “A baby.”  


“A baby.”  


“We’re having a baby.”  


“Oh wow,” Felicity said, a tear falling. She wiped it away, but another was quick to replace it. A smile finally crossed her face as the same wonder he felt glowed in her eyes. “I thought seeing the tests made it more real, but you saying that out loud just… Whew. Wow. We’re having a baby.”  


“We’re having a baby.”  


Felicity laughed. “How many times are we going to say it?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver replied with his laughter. “I don’t… I don’t know, it’s just…” He stared at his hand on her stomach. “It’s wow.”  


“Yeah.” She covered his hand with hers. “We can do this. Right?”

Oliver nodded without even having to think. “Yes. We can. If you’ve taught me anything, Felicity, it’s that as long as we’re together, we can conquer anything. _Anything_.”

“Well, good, because I wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.”  


“I’m not going anywhere,” Oliver promised. “Not ever. I’m here, for you and our children. For our… our baby.”

“Girl,” Felicity said. His heart tugged as he raised an eyebrow in question. She shrugged. “Just a feeling.”  


“Our girl,” Oliver said, dropping to his knees. He smoothed his hands over her stomach and pressed a kiss to the still-flat area. “I can’t wait to meet you, baby girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/183217474839/soooo-can-we-get-a)


	7. Hear Anything? (post-7x14)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity lounge in bed after she tells him the big news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm gutted by the news about Arrow. I knew it was coming, I think we all did. I think we all thought it _should_ happen because the feeling has been there for a while, easily since Season 6. But still, the reality of it is just heartbreaking. I love this show so much, I love Olicity so much, and knowing that it's coming to an end is making me incredibly sad. I'm glad we're getting a sendoff, and I can't wait to see what they have in store! I absolutely want the happy-ever-after montage showing Team Arrow growing old with Olicity and their bunch of babies because Oliver doesn't die in the crossover, no, something happens and he gets his goddamn happy ending... _I demand it_.
> 
> Anyway, I needed some fluff. So here's some fluff.

“Hear anything?”  


“Shh.”  


“There’s not really anything to hear right now, Oliver.”  


“ _Shh_.”  


“I’m just saying…”  


He waved her off and pressed his ear closer to her bare stomach. She watched him with a small smile, running a hand over his sheared hair as he strained closer to hear any movement. It was utterly _ridiculous_  and they both knew it, but it was cute and sweet and it made her insides warm and fuzzy. Felicity never said no to those feelings. 

They’d celebrated the news of her pregnancy in the best way possible - christening the kitchen counter. Afterward they’d migrated to the bed, Felicity pausing long enough to throw on his undershirt to go out to the kitchen to grab her ice cream again, much to Oliver’s chagrin. Not the eating the ice cream part, but the part where she told him she can get her own damn ice cream. He’d smacked her butt on the way out the door and she’d stuck her tongue out at him.

Now they lounged in bed, Felicity propped up against the headboard, pillows supporting her back, ice cream pint in-hand, his shirt pushed up underneath her breasts, and Oliver sprawled out between her legs, cuddled up close, his head pressed to her naked, still-flat belly. 

Felicity took another bite of the ice cream and closed her eyes with a low moan. Somehow the mint chip kept getting _better_. She had no idea that was even possible. Pregnancy taste buds were _amazing_. 

“Definitely hearing Mommy enjoying her ice cream,” Oliver mumbled into her stomach, his scruff tickling her. She giggled, delighting in the word _‘mommy’_ as much as the sensation of him grinning against her.  


“You know what would make this better, though,” she mused, pointing her spoon at the nearly empty pint. “Onions.”  


“What?”   


“Red onions,” she confirmed with a nod. “Yeah, that’d be good. Real good.”  


Oliver made a noise that might be disgust from down where he was pillowed on her stomach. She lifted her hips to bump him and he chuckled, lifting his head enough to drop a kiss on her bellybutton.

“And yet,” he said, laying back down on her. “Somehow… I still want some ice cream.”  


“You want some?” she asked.  


“Any left?”  


“Here.”  


She loaded up a spoonful and maneuvered it to him. He didn’t budge an inch, just opening his mouth where he laid. It was stupidly awkward and the weird angle made her giggle again as she managed to get the spoon between his lips… but not before a melted dollop of it slipped free and landed on her bare skin.

“Ah, cold!”  


Oliver hummed around the spoon and then let go, quickly swallowing it. Not skipping a beat, he moved to capture the ice cream before it could drip down her side. His lips were chilled, but still somehow hot against her skin as he licked her clean. Heat spiraled out from the spot, instantly coiling in the pit of her stomach. A deep, low need tugged at her sex. It felt even better with his weight pressing on her and she bit her lip, lifting a leg to wrap loosely around his back.

With a satisfied sigh, Oliver laid back down on her stomach.

Felicity picked up a small bit of ice cream and dropped it on herself right in front of his face. “Oops.”

A tiny smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t lick it up right away. Instead Oliver looked up at her, his eyes darkening with an intent that made her stomach swoop. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned down and slowly licked up the ice cream. When her breath caught, he wrapped his lips around the spot and sucked at her delicate skin _hard._ Oh, that was definitely going to leave a mark.

With a wicked smile, Felicity dropped another bit of ice cream, licking her lips along with him as he licked that up… and then another… and another, until they both forgot about the ice cream completely.

(They did have melted ice cream to clean up off the floor the next morning, but neither of them complained.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed the soul and muse! Thank you for reading!
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/183296873524/i-really-wanna-see-olicity-cuddle-and-see-them)


	8. Perfect (Season 7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 7. Seven times Oliver and Felicity dance. (Based on "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran.)
> 
> (Inspired by my “[Seven times Oliver and Felicity fall asleep together](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3264089/chapters/8222047)” fic.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts out pretty angsty as Oliver and Felicity work through their issues throughout Season 7, but it definitely gets fluffier. This is pure indulgence on my part as I get used to Arrow ending this year. I listened to "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran about 3498 times while writing this.
> 
> Anon Prompt: If you want to drown in some Olicity feels I suggest listening to Ed Sheeran's song Perfect off his new album. That will do the trick.
> 
> Part 1 is set during “Inmate 4587″ (7.1).  
> Part 2 is set after “The Slabside Redemption” (7.7).  
> Part 3 is set after “Unmasked” (7.8).  
> Part 4 is set after “Elseworlds,” specifically Part 2 (7.9) (references [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4485846/chapters/13426123) from S4).  
> Part 5 is set after “Brothers & Sisters” (7.14).  
> Part 6 is set after Season 7.  
> Part 7 is set in the future.

_I found a love for me_  
_Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead_  
_Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet_  
_Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me_

The nightmare always waited for him.

Oliver stared at the ceiling as the sharp, “Lights out!” rang through the large room. With a snap, every single light went out, bathing everything in pure darkness. He bit the tip of his tongue, his lids fluttering as his chest tightened like it did every night. There wasn’t any immediate ambient light, no exit signs close enough to rival the pitch black, no outside moonlight slipping through. 

It was just him and the darkness.

There was no control in this tiny room, in his cell. There was nothing to attack, nothing to fight, nothing but shadows he couldn’t see, couldn’t touch, couldn’t anticipate. His muscles cramped from constant vigilance. His bones ached from old and new wounds he couldn’t escape no matter how low a profile he aimed for. Stress lined every single inch of him, just waiting, the taut line digging knives of anticipation into his shoulders. 

Saliva flooded his mouth as he fought to control his breathing.

Minutes ticked by until his eyes adjusted, barely, the ceiling finally coming into focus. Some nights he wondered if he imagined the cracks that decorated the old concrete, or if he was actually seeing them. They always looked different in the morning.

_No control here._

Felicity’s face surfaced in his mind.

Oliver instantly relaxed. His eyes fluttered shut of their own volition as he let go of the breath he’d been instinctively holding. His bones sunk into the thin mattress, the tension abating, if just for a second… 

_Home._

It was so momentary, so fleeting, but sometimes, for a few precious seconds, he wasn’t here. He was with his wife and they were standing in their kitchen in a rare break from the madness that was their lives.

How many moments had he let slip by? How many did he take for granted, thinking there’d always be more? Dozens. Hundreds. But that didn’t change that they did happen, every once in a while. And every so often, his mind gave him a reprieve… let him fall back into the past where there was nothing but peace.

Where nothing could hurt him.

_Home._

_If he listens hard enough, he’ll hear William in his room playing video games, even though Oliver’s pretty sure he’s still not done with his homework. Remnants of dinner linger in the air, his chili. Dirty dishes sit in the sink, dishes they’d both been working on. But they can wait. They’ll always wait. Hands wet with soap and water, Oliver laces his fingers through Felicity’s and tugs her into his arms. She laughs, that gorgeous, deep-throated amusement that comes from deep in her chest, the one that sets off butterflies in his stomach. He wraps his arm around her, getting her shirt wet at her waist, and she returns the favor by slipping her wet fingers under the collar of his shirt, getting soap all over his shoulder. He wrinkles his nose at her and she makes a face back, but they don’t let go. They never let go. No, they hold on tighter, swaying in the middle of the kitchen. They stare into each other’s eyes, falling into the delicate bubble of intimacy that winds around them. Contentment like he’s never known settles over him, warm and secure. Safe. There’s nothing here but him, and her, his family, everything he’s always needed. They slowly dance around the small area, wandering here and there, everywhere, perfectly happy to go wherever the other does. When they clear the counter, he dips her back, earning a delighted giggle. He smiles as he pulls her back up, closer this time, smoothing his hand up her back. He melts into her soft embrace, the dance slowing. When they reach the opposite end of the kitchen, he spins her out, his chest tightening with love when she throws her head back with a huge grin before he pulls her close again._

_Love… happiness… joy…_

Something _snapped_.

Oliver stiffened and before he could react, the kitchen disappeared. Bright, vicious forest from a world he never wanted to go back to instantly replaced it, surrounding him in a suffocating whoosh. Light blinded him and he tried to cringe away from it, but the weight in his arms distracted him. 

So _heavy_.

“Felicity?”

He blinked his eyes open, trying to see her, to make sure she was okay.

A stream of blood slipped from the corner of her mouth. His heart stopped as she slouched against him, her eyes widening in pain. Tears filled them, breaking free, sliding into her hair as her lips moved, trying to speak. But nothing came out. 

Horror choked her name on his lips as he yanked her up into his chest with a harried, “No, what’s wrong, what’s _wrong_ , what…?” 

The front of her shirt was soaked through and when he looked down, all he saw was red.

“No,” he gasped. She was too heavy all of a sudden. She was _never_ heavy, though. Not like this. He tried to hold her, to pull her closer… but then she was gone. Oliver collapsed to the ground, landing with a thud that rocked his very bones when he realized she wasn’t with him anymore. _Gone_. “No!” Oliver snapped, his voice breaking. He rummaged through the leaves ont he ground with blood-stained hands, but she wasn’t there. She was gone. _She’d just been there_ \- he’d been holding her, she was _there_ , he knew she’d been there. “Felicity!”

A scream shattered the air.

“Oliver! Help! _Oliver_!”

His head whipped towards the sound and he was on his feet before he could think.

“ _Oliver_!”

“You can’t hide from me…”

The voice sent chills down Oliver’s spine and he screamed for her, told her to run…

A gunshot exploded.

Oliver’s eyes snapped open on a ragged gasp. He jerked up, hot coals of air scraping down his throat as he blinked, trying to see. Felicity wasn’t there, though. Neither was Diaz. He wasn’t on Lian Yu, he wasn’t at home. 

 _Slabside_.

All he saw was darkness. 

No forest, no blood, no kitchen…

No screams.

“Felicity,” he breathed, his voice cracking. His face crumpled and he let himself fall into the despair, burying his face in his hands. “ _Felicity_ …”

Somewhere in Hope Springs, Felicity Smoak paused where she’d been swaying by herself in her tiny kitchenette. Dried tear tracks covered her cheeks as she looked up, blinking, wondering if she was hearing things. A shiver danced down her spine and her eyes fluttered shut. 

She’d heard him as clearly as if he was right here…

Dancing with her.

“Oliver?” 

She bit her lip as more tears welled in her eyes, but he didn’t answer.

*

_‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_  
_Not knowing what it was_  
_I will not give you up this time_  
_But darling, just kiss me slow_  
_Your heart is all I own_  
_And in your eyes you’re holding mine_

Felicity drummed her fingers on her thigh. 

He’d been in the bathroom for a long time. Which was probably normal, especially considering how he’d looked walking out of Slabside earlier. Her throat closed at the memory, her chest caving in with shared pain. God, what he must have gone through. He hadn’t talked about it on the drive back to Starling. He hadn’t said anything, instead climbing into the backseat of Digg’s car. Even if he hadn’t been clinging to her, she would have climbed in with him in a heartbeat. He’d tried to stay upright, to keep his eyes open, but the shaking in his hands where they clasped hers, his quick, pained breaths, the silent lull of the car around them… He’d finally slipped closer to her, leaning over until his head rested on her shoulder. When she asked if he wanted to lay down, put his head in her lap, he’d paused, but when he shifted his grimace had told her everything she needed to know. The damage to his body was too much right now. Instead he’d just shaken his head and she’d whispered, “Okay,” before settling in, holding him as much as she could until they got home. 

When they walked in, he’d looked so out of place she almost broke right there.

 _“I need to…”_ he’d managed.

She’d led him straight to the bathroom. She’d thought about lingering, wondering if he needed help, if she should help, but when he leaned in to turn the shower on, it’d suddenly felt too intimate. He didn’t ask her to stay and she didn’t volunteer. It felt like something he had to do on his own. So she left, changing into her leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. She’d snuck in with a change of clothes for him, leaving them on the counter, lingering long enough to make sure he was still standing in there. It’d been something to do, but that’d taken all of ten seconds and after pacing for a full, seemingly-hour-long minute, she finally sat on the edge of the bed, mind racing, waiting.

The door opened.

Felicity shot up to her feet. “Hi.”

Oliver tried to smile. “Hey.” 

He wore the sweats and t-shirt she’d left him. The glare of the light behind him attempted to obscure the damage he’d sustained, but it wasn’t enough. He’d washed the blood and grime and smoke away, but all it’d done was reveal just how bad of a beating he’d taken. Her breath caught at the sight. Cuts littered his face, bruises already starting to yellow and darken. He’d trimmed his beard down, showing a still-bleeding cut on his jaw that nobody in their right mind would put a razor to right now. There was a huge gash at his temple and a cut on his nose that made her wonder if he’d broken it. He held himself so tenderly, like one wrong move and he’d break into a thousand pieces.

Felicity’s heart broke.

“Oliver,” she whispered, stepping closer. “Are… can…?”

His next attempt at a smile was almost better. “I’m okay.”

No. No, he wasn’t.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and slowly crossed the distance between them. He held his breath, watching her like she was a vision. That opened a huge, gaping crack in her chest, wondering if he knew she was seeing the same thing in her own way. He was home. He was finally _home_. Tears burned her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. That was for later. Right now she needed to take care of him. She needed to do _something_. Felicity lifted a shaking hand to his cheek, not touching him when she saw the bruise on his cheekbone. 

A flutter of disappointment creased his brow.

With a breathy, “Oliver,” she cupped his cheek much like she had outside the prison.

His eyes slipped shut. His strength was crumbling, she could see it in the tremble that shook his shoulders, in how much he collapsed into her palm, leaning into her touch even though it made him hiss in pain.

Felicity shook her head. “We should have gone to the hospital.”

Oliver choked out a sound as he opened his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes before she could stop herself - of course he’d say that. When the reality of what she was doing in the face of what he’d gone through hit her, she almost felt bad about it until she saw the very real smile gracing his lips. This one reached his eyes. _Her Oliver_. Felicity’s lips moved in a silent litany of, _‘Hi,’_ as her own lips curled up, touching her shaky thumb to the corner of his mouth.

“Can I least… I need to put something on these,” she said quietly, pushing her hand up his face, staring at the open wounds. “These look really bad.”

“Okay.”

Felicity gently pushed him back into the bathroom and he moved wherever she directed him to. When they were closer to the light, she couldn’t hide the tears that filled her eyes or the tremble of her lips as she stared up at him. She felt like she was looking at all the wounds she’d been carrying inside. They echoed in her own skin, stinging and burning so hot that she couldn’t hide the broken cry that fell from her lips.

Oliver’s eyes filled along with hers and one hand grasped her waist, tugging her closer as the other caught her hand, threading their fingers together.

His touch was so gentle, so soft, so loving.

She tried to stem them, but the sobs bubbled up, filling her chest until she thought she was going to explode. He pulled her into his arms gingerly with a low, “C’mere, baby,” and she stepped into his embrace. Her sobs choked out even louder at the fact that she _could_ do this. He was home. They were here together. She never thought it would happen, she realized, she’d prepared herself for the absolute worst. And she _had_ done the absolute worst, hadn’t she? She’d been prepared to, she’d done things she never thought she would be capable of just to get to this moment.

Her mind flashed to the cold steel of a gun in her hand.

Terror at what she was, at who she’d become, it filled her and she burrowed into his chest.

Oliver wound himself around her, one arm banding across her back, his other hand cradling hers to his chest, holding her like he used to when they had the time to do it, almost like they were…

A wet laugh fell from her, her voice strained with emotion as she asked, “Are we dancing?”

Dancing might be a stretch, but they were definitely swaying. Trying to, at least, considering she was pretty sure he’d fractured his hip judging by the way he was walking. She should tell him to slow down, to take a break, but at the same time… 

It was _perfect_.

She didn’t want to stop.

“I dreamed about this,” Oliver admitted, the words muffled where he pressed his face into her shoulder. “Every single night, I dreamed about dancing with you. When the… when the lights went out and… I went somewhere safe. It was always you.”

Felicity nodded, her face crumpling. She dug her face further into his shoulder. She breathed him in - his smell was foreign now, something musty and harsh, but somewhere in there was her Oliver.

They stayed like that, swaying back and forth, just holding each other. He wound both arms around her, pulling her flush against him, his hands wandering over her back, up and down, engulfing her.

 _Home_.

She wasn’t sure when his arms slowly started to tighten around her. His fingers dug into her, his nails biting into her flesh. His entire body shook with the effort, but he didn’t stop, his grasp growing so tight it started to hurt.

“Oliver,” Felicity whispered. She felt him trying to stop, but he didn’t. Like he couldn’t. “What…?”

“He always found you,” he croaked, the words nearly inaudible. He was so much thinner than when he’d gone in, but he wasn’t weaker by any means. He was pure lean muscle now. His body rippled against her as he clung to her, hard. Too hard. She winced, whispering his name again. She didn’t know what to do. “He always found you and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Stop what?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

“He… he…” Oliver shifted to bury his face in the crook of her neck. Tears wet his face and her own fell in response. “It was always the same. The nightmares. He found you and I couldn’t stop him. He killed you, over and over and I couldn’t… stop him, I couldn’t… do _anything_. And then…  when they said he’d found you, when they… they told me that you were dead… I _lost_ you, I lost William, and I… God, Felicity, I was… I couldn’t…”

“Shh, I’m here, I’m here,” Felicity promised, hugging him tighter herself. His hold on her bit into her bones, so much it hurt to breath, but she didn’t stop him. He choked on his own breath at her hold, but it was suddenly her who couldn’t let him go. They clung to each other. She pushed her hand up over his head, scraping her nails over his damp, closely-sheared hair, holding him as close as she could as he did the same. “I’m okay, Oliver, I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re safe.”

His cries took over and they stayed like that, holding each other, not moving for a long while.

*

_Baby, I’m dancing in the dark_  
_With you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass_  
_Listening to our favorite song_  
_When you said you looked a mess_  
_I whispered underneath my breath_  
_But you heard it,_  
_Darling, you look perfect tonight_

The slight bump under the curtains gave her away.

Oliver stood in the living room, staring at her where she stood behind the heavy curtains. They were long enough to graze the floor, hiding her feet, and if he hadn’t known any better, he never would’ve guessed that’s where she was hiding.

Was that what she was doing?

_“I just don’t know if what’s best for me right now, is the same thing as what’s best… for us.”_

He didn’t move for a long beat, and neither did she. 

To say they’d been walking on eggshells around each other was an understatement. The second those words had left her mouth, the edge of a precipice he didn’t even know he’d been standing on yawned open before him. One wrong move, and he’d stumble over. He’d lose her.

 _No_.

Oliver shoved his hands into his pockets. He wanted to give her her space. Well, he knew he should want to, but the idea of her thinking anything that’s the best for her not being the best for them, it rattled him to his very core. It stole the air from his lungs, yanked out the foundation he’d come to rely on so much. He knew she’d been through hell. They both had. But things were different, now, she was right. Apologies only went so far. But she was wrong if she thought he was going to sit back and let her slip away from him because of it. She’d stuck by him through his worst moments. He’d visited the darkest parts of himself with her by his side, never giving up, never letting go. 

How could he do anything less for her?

So what did he do?

Really, he didn’t know if there was anything he _could_ do. It was too fresh, too raw.

But there was one thing he did know: he couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t. They’d get through this. They had to.

Oliver was moving before he knew it, shuffling towards her. She didn’t budge an inch, and he whispered her name, not wanting to startle her. It wasn’t until after the earlier attack that he’d noticed the curtains had a bulletproof - and arrow-proof - mesh on the inside. How long had she had these? How could he have been so blind, he wondered? The security measures she’d gone through, the gun, the bulletproofing of the entire house…

She was terrified and doing everything in her power to not let it control her.

It wasn’t as simple as his being back now, was it? It never would be, not again. He’d left her to fend for herself, and as much as he carried that responsibility, he also knew as well as she did that they had both chosen this life. It was a world that required her to step up like this, no matter how much he wanted to protect her from it.

He just hated that she had to do it at all. But he was also so insanely proud of her. She was and always would be the strongest person he’d ever met. He didn’t care what she said. She could have run, but instead she’d stood up and fought back. And as much as that terrified him, he knew that was who she was. He’d always known that. It was part of why he’d fallen in love with her. He wished she could see that the woman he’d walked in on chewing a red pen was absolutely the same fierce woman standing before him now.

Words wouldn’t suffice, would they?

He had to show her. And that would take time.

Well, good thing he wasn’t planning on going anywhere, not ever again.

“Felicity.”

Nothing.

Oliver parted the curtains. The instant they moved, she jumped, spinning around with a startled gasp. He immediately froze, letting her see it was just him. Headphones hung from her ears and she tugged one of them out, giving him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

A half-dozen words filtered through his head, but nothing felt right. He didn’t know what to say, if there was anything he could say right now.

When the silence became too much, Oliver slowly joined her in the safe confines of the curtain and bulletproof glass. She didn’t stop him and he took that as a good sign, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. His heart hurt when she bit her lip and looked away from him.

The soft hint of music filtered up from the hanging headphone.

“May I?” he asked, nodding to it. 

She paused, her mouth opening, and he stopped, wondering if she was going to tell him no. Instead she nodded, lifting it up for him. He took it gingerly and slid it into his ear.

It was the ending notes of a song he thought he recognized…

She clicked a button on the headphones to rewind it and the second the first words came out - _“I found a love for me”_ \- he knew what song she was listening to. It was the third song they’d danced to at their wedding reception. A smile pulled at his lips, but it faded away when he remembered what had happened earlier. Where before the song had always left him feeling hopeful, reminding him so much of their journey together, now it almost felt like…

 _Goodbye_.

Emotion crowded his throat and Oliver swallowed hard.

Felicity chewed on the corner of her lip, staring at his chest, not meeting his eye.

Without a word, Oliver offered her his hand. 

Her gaze dropped to it, emotion he wasn’t sure he wanted to read dancing over her features. But she didn’t say no. She slowly lifted her hand and placed it in his. He let out a slow breath and gently wound his hand around hers, slipping his other arm around her waist. She stepped into his arms with a naturalness that wrapped a tight fist around his heart. Her hand found his shoulder and he closed his eyes, pressing his face against the top of her head, breathing her in.

They barely moved save for the gentlest sway, following the gentle beat of the song. It was almost over and Oliver bit the tip of his tongue, wondering if she’d step away when it was…

But as the final chords played, it restarted, like she had it on loop.

And she didn’t let him go.

Oliver let out a shaky breath, kissing the crown of her head. Her tiny puffs of air hit his throat as she leaned in closer. Their feet brushed together, the song the only sound save for their quiet breaths as they danced. She twisted her hand where he held it, but not to get away. She slowly twined their fingers together and he turned his head to watch them, resting his cheek on her as he watched their palms come together.

They would be alright. 

Because they had to be.

_They had to be._

*

_Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know_  
_She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I’ll share her home_  
_I found a love to carry more than just my secrets_  
_To carry love, to carry children of our own_

_“Entering Queen Residence: Oliver Queen.”_

Felicity’s eyes shot open. She sat up in the same breath, throwing the comforter off before vaulting from the bed. She untwisted her shirt around her torso, tugging her sleeves back down as she darted out of the bedroom. Everything was shut up tight, leaving nothing but the sliver of moonlight seeping through the blinds covering the balcony door. 

It was more than enough for her to see him.

He was back.

Oliver paused where he’d been shrugging out of his jacket when he saw her.

“Felicity,” he breathed. 

_Fe-li-ci-ty._

Her heart skipped a beat. It’d been a long time since he’d tasted every syllable in her name. It shot her back into the past, back to their first few years working together. It’d taken her a while to connect that he’d always stretched her name out like that because for the longest time he’d thought that was all he’d get with her. When they finally got together, when they _stayed_ together, through all the ups and downs, he only dragged her name out like that when he thought he was losing her…

Or when he was finding her again.

“You’re back,” she said, closing the distance between them. She didn’t just mean physically, and they both knew it. He nodded as he yanked his jacket off the rest of the way and swept her up into his arms, pulling her off her feet. She laughed, wrapping a leg around his as she held on, whispering, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied. “Oh god, I missed this. I missed you.”

They hadn’t seen each other since he’d left ARGUS after their talk, after he told her she was the love of his life - _“Love is too small a word”_ \- and a dozen questions ran through her mind. He’d called her to tell her everything was okay, that he’d be heading back soon, and he’d explain everything. She wanted to know all of it, especially when he let it slip that he’d met _Batwoman_ , but for now…

Oh for now, she just wanted this.

She felt it in his touch, in how held her, how he breathed her in. This was _her_ Oliver. She never knew how aware of him she’d been until it was gone. When she’d walked into that room, she knew something had been off, more than it already was. It wasn’t even the way he’d held himself. No, it was how he looked at her, how he stopped moving in response to her words, how he said her name like it was nothing.

It wasn’t until his speech, when she looked into Barry’s eyes and saw her Oliver shining back at her, that it’d hit her what losing him would be like. His words had only solidified it. Things changed, they had both changed, but what would never change was how they felt about each other.

Not ever.

Oliver set her down, brushing his hands up her arms to cradle her cheeks. “Felicity…”

“I know,” she said, grasping his wrists. She slid her hands up to cover his. “I know. There’s so much I want to say, so much we need to talk about, but… I just… I need… _You_. I just need you, Oliver, I need… you. Here. With me.”

Even in the shadows filling the room, she saw the way his features softened.

For the first time since he’d gotten out of Slabside, she felt like things were going to be okay.

“Dance with me?” she asked, slipping her fingers through his where he still held her face.

The most beautiful grin pulled at his lips as he whispered, “Always.”

Felicity had no idea when this had become a touchstone for them, but it had. An important one. It was a barometer - a way to connect them when they couldn’t find the words, as much as a way to ground them in the reality of their love for each other. Maybe it was the months of separation, of being apart after all of their happiness had been stripped away in the space of a couple seconds, but whatever it was, it was important.

To both of them judging by the way he looked at her.

He was taller in his boots compared to her bare feet, but that didn’t stop them. He dropped a hand to wrap around her waist as she gently laced her fingers between his fingers, looking up up at him.

Without warning, Oliver leaned down and hauled her up off her feet again, cradling her close as he set her down on top of his feet. She let out a startled laugh, curling her toes over the top of his boots and holding on as he slowly moved them around the room. It reminded her of when she’d been paralyzed, that night when she told him she couldn’t stop thinking about their first dance at their wedding. Instead of placating her, he’d gotten right out of bed and showed her that nothing was going to stop them, not ever. 

The sentiment echoed and she smiled up at him.

“What?” he whispered as he danced them around.

“You’re the love of my life, too,” she told him. He stilled, his fingers grasping her closer. “You’re right. We’ve both changed and we can’t go back. We can never go back and we shouldn’t because we’ve grown and… adapted. But that… you being the love of my life? That will never change.”

“Yeah?”

“Ever,” she confirmed.

He stared at her for a beat. Her heart thundered in her chest, or maybe that was his, she thought as he slid his hand up her back, pulling her more flush against him. She took a slow, deep breath, pressing her breasts into his chest. Her shirt was thin enough she knew he felt her hardening nipples through his Henley. His eyes narrowed, his pupils widening in a way that made her stomach swoop as his breath skated over her lips.

Felicity pushed up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.

A groan echoed from deep in his chest, low and guttural. Just for her. She gasped against his lips and he opened for her, just enough to get a taste.

The dam broke. 

Oliver released her hand and dipped down, grabbing her ass in thick handfuls. He hauled her up into his arms. Felicity wound her legs around his waist, grabbing his shoulders for leverage as she arched her body into his on a moan. Their lips never parted as Oliver stumbled over to the couch. He bumped into something, what felt like a lamp brushing her hip, but it didn’t stop them. Oliver leaned over in a graceless heap, plopping her down on the cushions before pulling away just enough to slip his fingers in the band of her pajama bottoms. He tugged them down along with her panties. She helped as best she could, lifting her hips before sitting up and pulling at the bottom of his shirt, yanking it up. They were a flurry of movement, hands bumping into each other, skin sticking to the couch, breathless chuckles when they both went for the buttons on his pants. When they were undone, Felicity shoved the material down his hips, freeing his hardness. She fell back, spreading her legs for him. He followed without hesitation, blanketing her body with his. His growing erection slid against her sex, eliciting a needy whine as she sunk back into the cushions. His mouth slanted over hers, arms bracing against the couch, pulling back to angle his hips just right. Without preamble, Oliver slid home. It was hard and fast, deep and all-encompassing. He filled her completely. Felicity broke away from his lips with a gasp, grabbing his waist with one hand, her other sliding up his bare back, skating over his scars. They watched each other as he pulled out and thrust back in, again and again, her legs coming up to cradle him even closer between her thighs. 

_Home_.

They were home.

*

_We are still kids but we’re so in love_  
_Fighting against all odds_  
_I know we’ll be alright this time_  
_Darling, just hold my hand_  
_Be my girl, I’ll be your man_  
_I see my future in your eyes_

He woke to an empty bed.

Oliver didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was alone, but he still swung his arm out to her side of the bed. The sheets were cool to the touch and he cracked an eye open, frowning when he touched her still-dented pillow. 

It was damp with sweat.

He propped himself up on his elbow, glancing around the room. She wasn’t there. Sitting up with a low groan, Oliver tossed the comforter off and grabbed his discarded sweats off the floor to cover his nakedness. Scrubbing his face, he got up to seek out his wife. 

His _pregnant_ wife. 

Warmth flooded him at the thought, only to be quickly doused when he realized she must have had another nightmare. She’d tried to hide them from him, to play them off, but he saw right through it. He just hadn’t pushed. Maybe he should have. She wasn’t going to face this alone, not ever.

“Felicity?” he called.

The second he entered the living room, he knew exactly where she was. She’d pulled the curtains open, leaving the space highlighted in the dull moonlight that was managing to push through the cloudy, midnight sky. It perfectly framed her where she stood on the balcony, leaning on the railing wearing a pair of leggings and one of his sweaters that went well-past her thighs. 

Eyes never leaving her, Oliver grabbed the green blanket they always kept flung over the back of the couch and draped it over his shoulders as he joined her outside. He was glad for it when the chilled air nipped at his bare skin, making him pull it in even tighter around him. Felicity stood up taller at his presence, smiling quietly. But her eyes never strayed from whatever held her attention in the distance.

“Hey,” he said softly, sidling up behind her. He opened his arms to wrap around her waist, pulling her back into his chest and winding the blanket around her too. There was a lingering chill on her from being outside too long and he cuddled her close.

“Hey,” she replied, leaning back into him. She snuggled into his warmth with a happy hum. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he answered. Which bothered him. Something she picked up in his tone judging by the way she shifted her shoulders. “More nightmares?”

“You knew?”

“As someone who is very well-versed in the realities of nightmares, yes,” Oliver said, curling around her to rest his chin on her shoulder. “I’ve noticed for a while now. Talk to me.”

She was quiet for a long moment, but he waited with her, not pushing. If she wanted to talk now, she would. If she wanted to wait, he’d wait until she was ready. She’d done the same for him countless times.

“They’re about the baby,” Felicity admitted in a small voice. Oliver went very still, his heart lodging itself in his throat. Without even thinking about it, he moved so his hands cradled her stomach. “They were about Diaz for a while, chasing me, and all I heard was our baby screaming for me, but I couldn’t find her, not in time. And he… he’d find me first and then I was just… gone. Before I even got to know her.”

Oliver closed his eyes, wishing there was a way to soak up her pain. “Felicity…”

“I don’t want to miss anything with our baby, Oliver,” she said. “I accepted our life was dangerous a long time ago, but now it’s different. It was with William, and I think that’s part of it, you know? Sending him away. It was the right choice. It was what he wanted. But I don’t… I don’t think I could do that again. And I guess I wonder if I can…” Felicity bowed her head, her hands covering his over her stomach under the blanket. “If I can protect her.”

“ _We_ will,” Oliver said, hugging her closer. There was so much he could say, so much he probably should say, but all of it rang false. “Nothing is more important than our family. There’s nothing we won’t do for our family, and I know that in my bones. I know we can and will do _anything_ for our children. And that… I think that has to be enough.”

“See…” Felicity said. “On a logical, sane level, I know that. But… when I close my eyes…”

“I know,” he whispered, turning his head to press his face against the side of her neck. His lips ticked up when she swayed against him and he instinctively followed her lead, following her movements. “You know what else I know?”

“Hmm?”

“That no matter what, we will love her, with everything we are. We’ve got this, I know that as surely as I know I love you with everything in me. We found ourselves in each other, remember? As long as we have that, we’re good.”

Felicity smiled, turning her face into his. She nuzzled his cheek. “Her, huh?”

“You kept saying her.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Oh.”

Oliver held his wife, swaying with her, dancing under the moonlight. “It feels right.”

Felicity smiled, melting against him. “It does. Our baby girl.”

“Our baby girl,” he echoed, his heart swelling with so much love it took his breath away.

*

_Baby, I’m dancing in the dark_  
_With you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass_  
_Listening to our favorite song_  
_When I saw you in that dress_  
_Looking so beautiful_  
_I don’t deserve this_  
_Darling, you look perfect tonight_

It started out small, like always, gurgles more than anything.

Felicity woke the second the first noise crackled through the baby monitor, but she didn’t move for a second, hoping that Mia was just waking up and would magically put herself back to sleep. When nothing happened, she thought maybe she was just that lucky - Oliver had gotten up last time, and she’d promised him she would take her turn this time. Maybe Mia was on her side tonight… 

A full-blown cry erupted in a staticked mess.

Felicity crinkled up her face on a whimper.

Oliver shifted behind her, his arm squeezing her waist.

“I got her,” he grumbled, sounding more than half-asleep. He sat up as much as he could with Felicity’s near-dead weight laying half on top of him.

“No,” Felicity whispered, not exactly helping, even if the words were coming out. “It’s my turn.”

Oliver huffed, his lips curled in a smile when he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m getting up,” she argued as he rolled out of bed, grabbing his sweatshirt off the foot of the bed. She tried to open her eyes, barely catching the outline of his bare chest disappearing from view. Felicity slapped his side of the bed with a heavy arm, but even that was too much damn energy as she really, _really_ tried to make her point. “I am. Any… second…”

“Shh,” Oliver whispered, leaning over to press a lazy kiss to her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

He didn’t say anything else as he left the room, heading for Mia’s crib.

Felicity did think about getting up. She thought _hard_ about it. She inched closer to the edge of the bed, her fingers curling over the end of the mattress. But then her eyes were closing and before she knew it, unconsciousness had her. It wasn’t exactly easy, damn it, working her ass off during the day to get her company up and running, and then coming home to spend time with her loves. And that didn’t include the nights Team Arrow needed the OG Green Arrow out on the streets with them, which happened way more often than it should, in her estimation. Mostly because it took away from moments with her stay-at-home husband and their beautiful daughter, and their son when he visited from his grandparents.

And when they finally got Mia down, when it was just her and Oliver, she told herself she was awake enough to stay up and get their _them_ time in.

But the second her head hit the pillow, she was out.

Like now.

Felicity wasn’t sure how long she slept when she opened her eyes again. The shadows in the room hadn’t moved much, and when she lifted her head to squint at the alarm clock, it read nearly three in the morning. She was still sprawled across Oliver’s side of the bed, and he was nowhere to be found.

But there was… music?

It took her a second to recognize the sound filtering gently from the living room, and an even longer second to realize what song he was playing.

Felicity fell back in bed and shook her head. 

_This man._

Her perfect, perfect man.

Felicity ambled out of bed, snatching up her glasses before grabbing her robe where it hung over the closet door. She shrugged it on as she moved to seek out her family.

She found them in the living room.

Oliver swayed gently in front of the large picture windows overlooking Starling. It was snowing outside, the absolute picture of serenity and peace and warmth, but he didn’t have eyes for his city. 

No, he only had eyes for the quiet bundle cradled against his chest.

Felicity slowly made her way over to them. 

Oliver looked up with a smile, turning to open his other arm to her. She slid underneath his arm, sighing when he dropped a kiss to the top of her head before joining her in watching their daughter sleep. 

Mia was out like a light, perfectly content, happy as her parents danced with her in the dark.

*

_Baby, I’m dancing in the dark_  
_With you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass_  
_Listening to our favorite song_  
_I have faith in what I see_  
_Now I know I have met an angel in person_  
_And she looks perfect_  
_I don’t deserve this_  
_You look perfect tonight_

“This is nice.”

Oliver smiled as he spun her out again, slowly, carefully, letting her control the speed. He watched her as she let her head fall back, just enough so she didn’t lose her balance, her free hand flying out slightly, fingers spread. Her wedding ring caught caught flickers of light. Fall loomed over them, along with their second baby that, according to her, was currently making her the size of the entire planet. He didn’t agree. She was stunning. She _glowed_ , even more than her first pregnancy. 

Happiness looked damn good on her. 

Despite the season change coming on, thick humidity settled in the air. It was nicer in Ivy Town where they’d snuck off for one last mini-vacation together before the baby made itself known. Nicer than Starling, by a long shot. He loved how open their backyard was here. It more than made up for the lack of outdoor space in the loft they kept in downtown Starling City.

“Dancing?” Oliver guessed, gently tugging her back into his arms. Her stomach was nearly impossible to get around, but they made due. Like always. 

“Oh yeah,” Felicity replied. “That, too. But I was talking about the grass on my toes.”

Oliver laughed, a deep throaty sound. “It does feel nice.”

“It’s so cool,” she said. He felt her wiggling her toes because they brushed against his own bare feet, making his lips quirk. “The rain helps.”

“I love it here,” Oliver whispered. She nodded in agreement. “Having grass in the backyard, being able to look up and actually see the stars. Being able to dance with my very pregnant wife underneath them.”

She smiled. “Pretty soon you’ll have another dance partner.”

“Rather, William will.”

As if on cue, their son caught the corner of their eye. They both turned to see the teenager holding a five year old Mia in his arms, making her giggle as he faux-danced with her. In the background Lyla and Diggle danced under the same stars in front of a long table closer to the house holding the rest of their family. Donna was there, Rene and Dinah, Zoe and JJ, and Connor, Lyla and Digg’s adopted son. Thea and Roy had even appeared. Other friends, other neighbors, other family rounded it out, all of them flying in for one last hurrah before Oliver and Felicity’s next little one made itself known to the world.

Laughter echoed through the large backyard, silverware clinked, music played softly in the background.

“I’m glad we did this,” Felicity said, twisting to lean into Oliver’s side. He instantly wrapped his arm around her waist, taking as much weight as she wanted to lean on him as the watched their loved ones, both of them swaying to the gentle song coming from hidden speakers. “Home.”

Oliver kissed her temple.

Anywhere he was with her was home.

Smoak Technologies was running at full capacity now, and while it had settled firmly in the black and was gaining enough steam that they were planning on expanding, he knew she wanted to be as close to her business baby as she was with him and the kids. Ivy Town had been the perfect compromise for a home away from home - it was where they’d first started, and it was close enough to Gotham that when Felicity expanded to the East Coast, she could commute in and out of her new office.

Everything had come full circle, in its on way.

“Thank you,” Oliver said quietly.

Felicity looked up at him with a serene smile. “For what?”

“For making me the happiest man in the world.”

(And we conclude this with Bre’s usual denial: And nothing bad happened ever again, The End.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/183339036214/if-you-want-to-drown-in-some-olicity-feels-i)


	9. forever i’m yours (forever i do) (Season 7B)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 7B. Oliver hid Felicity’s chocolates and she is not happy about it.
> 
> **Rated Explicit.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something cute and fluffy because I am _craving it_ right now. All we're seeing is doom and gloom, and as much as I loved Star City 2040, I also need more Oliver in that world, and he's not there, so we're sticking with cute and fluffy in 7B. (I also had an 'aha!' moment in another project and I always love those moments, so celebrating with fluff is a must.)
> 
> Just did a quick re-read and edit, my apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> **This chapter is rated Explicit. It's a buncha fluff and smut. You have been warned.**

“You said you’d help.”

Oliver closed his eyes under the onslaught of shower water and sighed. 

“I can hear you, you know,” Felicity grouched. He listened to her grab her toothbrush and turn the sink water on. She slammed the toothpaste on the counter after slathering some on her toothbrush. “You said you’d _help_.”

“I _am_ helping-”

“Oh! _Oh_!” The words came out in a muffled mess around her toothbrush as she stomped to the shower. She yanked the curtain open and Oliver turned to an enraged Felicity Smoak with a bright purple brush hanging out of her mouth pointing her finger at him. “You _took_ them.”

He put his hands up. “Felicity-”

“You took them and threw them away.” She still had a crease in her cheek from sleeping, but it did nothing to take away from the glare she sent him. It had so much vitriol it almost made him laugh. Almost. He did have a least one ounce of self-preservation. “That was not what I meant and you know it. I thought you’d be creative and cute about it, you’re the freaking Green Arrow, Oliver, you could’ve come up with something other than _throwing them away_.”

“It was one box.”

“It was _my_ box.”

Oliver huffed out an exasperated smile. “Felicity-”

“No, shut up, I don’t want to hear it. You _threw_ them away, I just… I can’t believe you would just… _throw them away_.” Her angry words faded as she shrugged out of her robe, letting it fall in a graceless heap before she stepped in. “ _Move_.”

Oliver’s aggravation with her snippiness evaporated. He immediately made room for her, unable to keep his eyes from dropping down to appreciate his very naked wife. She was barely a couple months into her pregnancy, but it was already evident in the new curves he was discovering every day. Her breasts were getting bigger, something she groused about on a daily basis, but he wasn’t grousing. Oh no, his palms positively itched to feel their heavy weight, to palm them, to run his fingers over her ridiculously sensitive nipples. That part was new, and it was something he was really enjoying. 

A lot.

It made keeping up with her new influx of hormones way more tolerable. Not that she was intolerable. She wasn’t. He was actually enjoying it, not that he would ever tell her that. Again, he had _some_ self-preservation.

Oliver watched her pull the curtain back into place before turning into the water. She continued brushing her teeth as she stepped under the spray. She flinched when the hard little droplets hit her breasts. Her very sensitive breasts. Desire tugged at him as she took over the shower, turning to wet her hair before spinning back to let the spray cascade over her face. 

She ignored him completely.

He wasn’t complaining. 

Not with her very round, very plump ass sitting right there.

“Felicity,” he started, his voice deeper.

“Ah!” she interrupted, throwing him a glare over her shoulder. She spit out the toothpaste in her mouth into the drain before looking back at him. “I don’t want to hear it. I thought you’d do something _cute_ …” Felicity turned back into the water, talking around her toothbrush again. “Like eating half of them, or bribing me with them, or-”

“We tried that, remember?” Oliver interrupted, because he couldn’t help himself. “You were eating twice as much and when you suggested I start doing sit-ups to burn off ‘my half,’ you elbowed me in the face.”

Felicity whipped around. “So you just throw them away?” 

His eyes dropped again of their own volition. 

Water streamed down her body, slipping between and over her breasts where they hung in heavy teardrop shapes. Her nipples had deepened to a dusky pink, and they were slowly pebbling into hard little peaks. Oliver’s mouth went dry, his gaze falling even more, down her stomach where the most perfect little bump was starting to show. A primordial need he couldn’t begin to describe tugged at him. His eyes slipped down further, all the way down to the apex between her thighs. 

She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hey, uh uh, no,” Felicity snapped, spitting out her toothpaste again before waving her toothbrush at him. “Eyes up here, buddy. We’re arguing.”

“You’re arguing,” Oliver replied, unable to drag his eyes up. 

“ _We’re_ arguing,” she insisted, jabbing her finger in the center of his forehead and pushing his head up until his eyes met hers. “Because you threw my chocolates away. Because instead of helping me like you said you would, you took the one thing that I wanted and threw them in the trash. You _threw_ them-”

He stepped closer as he cut her off. “I did not.”

“You _did_ -”

Oliver kissed her.

Felicity pulled back with a glare. “Oliver-”

He cut her off with another kiss. He cupped her face, running his tongue along the seam of her lips, nipping at her slightly, just how she liked it. She responded exactly how he knew she would, opening for him.

But she pulled back before he could do anything about it.

“We’re not done-”

“I didn’t throw them away, Felicity,” Oliver said gruffly, kissing her again. It muffled her surprised sound at his words. “I would never throw them away, I know how much you love those stupid things.” Another kiss, this one lingering before he dropped a series of softer ones on her lips and around her mouth. “You asked me for help because you told me you were worried about how much sugar you were eating, so I hid them.” Another kiss and this time he stepped even closer. Her hard nipples scraped over his chest and she jerked, a shiver wracking her frame. He grinned, invading her space completely, letting her feel his growing arousal for her. His hardness slipped over her rounding belly and Oliver dug his fingers into her cheeks on a growl as he added, “I was going to surprise you with them tonight after dinner. After our very healthy dinner.”

“Oh,” she breathed against his lips. He tugged her bottom lip between his, nipping at it again, and she hummed, her tongue finally seeking his out. Her taste was all minty and he angled her head to deepen the kiss. “Mm… Okay, but you could have told me that.”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“But now I’m cranky.”

Oliver smiled into their next kiss. “You don’t seem terribly cranky right now.”

“I want my chocolates, Oliv-” He swallowed up the rest of her words, kissing her until she whimpered. She was a little breathless when he pulled back, but not enough to add, “Give them to me.”

He chuckled. “No.”

Felicity pulled back to frown up at him. “Did you just say no?”

“Yes,” he replied, kissing her, trailing his lips down her chin and then her jaw. “Yes, I did.”

“ _Oliver_.”

“ _Felicity_.”

“Give me my damn chocolates!”

“You told me not to,” he mumbled into her neck, not the least bit swayed.

“I did not,” Felicity argued. “I absolutely did not say to keep them away from me.”

Oliver heard her. He did. Her tone was telling him to go to hell, but her body was singing a different tune. He chose to listen to that for the time being. Especially when her hands grasped onto his shoulders as she leaned her head back to give him more access as he licked and sucked his way down the column of her throat. 

He took advantage of it, dropping his hands to her hips and spinning them so he could pin her up against the shower wall. 

She let out a startled shriek at the cold tile against her heated back and her toothbrush fell to the ground with a clatter. Oliver didn’t give her a second to think about it as he slipped his thigh between hers. She mewled and widened legs to press down against him. The delicious warmth of her arousal sliding over him made him groan and his cock twitched where it pressed against the delicate area where her inner thigh met her hip. Keeping his leg anchored between hers, Oliver moved his way down her chest, aiming for her breasts. He took his time, though, leaving wet, needy kisses in his path that had her panting under his ministrations. 

“Oliver…” Felicity dug her nails into his shoulders for leverage as she arched her back to grind down on him. “Give me my chocolate.”

Her wetness spread all over his thigh and he nipped at her a little too hard.

Felicity’s hands flew to his head and he knew if he had enough hair, she’d be making a tight fist in in the strands. “No hickeys,” she ordered. He just grunted, not stopping. “Seriously, Oliver, I want to wear my peach blouse today.”

He backed off. A bit. 

“Which peach blouse?” he asked, mentally running through her wardrobe. Because he planned on leaving _something_ behind. Because he wanted to. And because he could. And because she was being a pain in the ass about her damn chocolates.

“The one with the little flowers on the collar,” Felicity replied breathily, letting her head fall back against the shower wall. The shirt in question surfaced in his mind and with a grin, Oliver resumed his path down the center of her chest. She smacked the back of his head. “Oliver, I’m serious!”

“I won’t put one where anyone can see,” he promised.

“Uh uh, no,” Felicity said. “No hickeys.”

“Can I leave one for a chocolate?” She stilled. Oliver smirked, nuzzling his face into her shoulder. “One hickey, where nobody will see it, and I’ll give you a chocolate.”

Felicity huffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, kissing her shoulder, moving his way up to her neck. He felt more than saw her jaw tightening and he knew he was pissing her off. He wanted to feel bad, he did. But he didn’t. “You wanted me to help…”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Felicity…” 

His hot breath danced over her wet skin and she shivered. He moved her then. He slid his hands further down her legs as he shifted just enough for him to slip his hips between her thighs. They didn’t have long to enjoy this position if her growing belly was any indication, and he was going to do just that. 

Right now. 

Oliver dropped down and in one quick move, he had his arms under her thighs and he was lifting her further up the wall. Felicity gasped, her hands flying back to his shoulders to hold on as he slid her up the tile. The trust shining out of her eyes never ceased to amaze him. It was incredible and he wanted nothing more than to prove to her that it wasn’t misplaced. Adjusting his grip so he was cupping her ass, her legs secure over his arms, he pinned her to the wall. 

“This okay?” he grunted, his erection pushing up between them, slipping over her sex, nestling in the small tuft of hair she kept there.

Felicity’s lips parted on a pant and she gave him a quick nod.

He watched her chest rise in a quick breath, her eyes darkening as she stared at him. An aching need washed over her face, a hunger he was very familiar with by now. But there was a new edge to it, a new way she drank him in as her gaze drifted down his neck, skated over his collarbone, his shoulders, down his chest. She looked _starved_ for him and it had his hardness swelling even more, twitching, aching for her in his own way.

Like she had to touch him, her hands found his face, her nails dragging through his stubble before dropping down. She followed the strong lines of his neck, down his chest, one hand hovering over his heart.

When he let out a guttural, “Felicity,” her eyes snapped back up to his. Her lids were heavy, matching the look he knew he was giving her.

Oliver shifted his hips back until the tip of his cock slipped over her clit. 

Neither of them spoke as he found her wet entrance and pushed up into her.

She was stunning to watch as he filled her. Her plump lips parted, her eyes fluttering. A gorgeous flush worked its way up her neck, coloring her cheeks. Her need for him was a heady thing and it always left him feeling slightly drunk. Eyes glassy and dark with a tangle of anger and arousal, she stared at him as he slid his way home deep inside her. He fought to keep his breathing even as her hot silken walls welcomed him. She was so wet, so soft and warm and she felt _so damn good_ , sending a cascade of sensation dancing through his body. The urge to slam the rest of the way into her almost overwhelmed him and he gripped her ass with a growl from deep in his chest, forcing himself to maintain his pace.

When he was fully seated inside her, she said, “Two chocolates.” 

Oliver froze. And then he laughed. “So we’re negotiating now?”

Felicity bit her lip on a challenging smile and braced her legs where they were thrown over his arms. Then she slowly rotated her hips. Oliver sucked in a quick breath as she narrowed her eyes. “I want my chocolates.”

“A chocolate for a hickey,” Oliver countered, unable to keep himself from pulling out and thrusting back home. That’s exactly what this was: _home_. He never wanted to leave. He pulled out only half-way and changed his angle, hitting her clit on his next thrust. He knew he was successful when her jaw unhinged. “That’s my deal.”

“Two chocolates,” she replied on a moan, “and you can put it wherever you want.”

“Interesting,” he said, leaning in. He did it slowly in case she stopped him as it forced her knees further up towards her chest. She didn’t complain in the least, though. In fact, as it let him sink even deeper inside her, she dug her nails into him, raking his skin. God, he loved how flexible she was. Oliver nudged her head out of the way to reach her neck. He dropped a kiss right under her jaw as he pulled his hips moved. “Here? Or… here?” He thrust into her at a lazy pace as he picked random spots that would be impossible to cover unless she wanted to wear a scarf or a turtleneck. She switched from hot to cold at the speed of light these days, he knew she wouldn’t be okay with wearing any of that for long. “Here?”

“ _Anywhere_ ,” Felicity gasped, slipping a hand around to cup the back of his head.

“Mm, as appealing as that is,” Oliver whispered, dragging his face down her chest. His thrusts grew more shallow, but it was a small price to pay. Being fully encased in her heat was just as divine… and it meant he got to play. His lips grazed the top of one of her breasts. Her breath caught. “I kind of want to leave one here.”

“ _Oliver_ …”

“One chocolate for a hickey,” he repeated, his lips hovering over her breast.

Felicity arched to get closer to him, but he didn’t let her. “I don’t like this game,” she whined.

“No?” He finally kissed her, inching closer to her nipple. Felicity arched her back, using him for leverage to urge him where they both wanted him to be. But all he did was let his nose graze over the incredibly sensitive tight little bud. “Not even a little?”

“No,” she groaned, shaking her head, even as she gripped his head and tried to push him closer. “Not… not even a little. I want chocolate.” He fought her direction. She whined and tried to pull him to her other breast, but he was an immovable force. “Oh my god, I so don’t like you right now.”

“Not even a little?” he teased with a grin, pulling his hips back and thrusting up into her. He felt her toes curl where her feet scrambled for purchase against his flanks.

“Oliver!”

“One chocolate for a hickey.” Oliver leaned in again, his lips finding her other breast. He didn’t play coy this time, wrapping his lips around her nipple. He sucked on it, earning a breathless cry that was music to his ears as her inner walls clamped down on him. Oliver hissed around her flesh and ground his hips against hers, swirling his tongue around her nipple. She dissolved into nonsensicalness that ended in a whine of protest when he let the little bud go with a pop. “That’s my only offer. Take it or leave it.”

She glared at him. “This is coercion.”

He snorted. “You’re the one trying to take advantage of me.”

“Oh?” Felicity asked with a high-pitched laugh. “Who has who pinned to the wall right now? You are taking advantage of a pregnant woman. You are taking advantage of your pregnant wife. All I want is some chocolate, Oliver, and first you throw them away-”

“I did not throw them away!”

“And now you’re dangling one over my head-”

“Felicity,” Oliver growled, covering her lips. He plundered her mouth, leaving her stunned and swollen when he finally pulled back. “Say yes.”

“Where are they?”

“You’ll never find them, I can promise you that-”

“Sounds like a challenge-”

“Which means you won’t get any-”

“I’ll buy more”

“I’ll just hide them.”

“This is _stupid_ -”

“I agree,” Oliver said before slanting his mouth over hers again. 

Careful to keep his weight off her stomach, Oliver pinned her down and damn near assaulted her. It wasn’t long before she was kissing him back, with even more force. Tongues tangling, teeth crashing, lips bitten, his beard scraping over her delicate skin. Her inner walls clenched around him in response and it sent a titillating cascade of sparks dancing down his spine. He groaned, his hunger for her absolutely taking over, and he kissed her even harder. Felicity tightened her legs around his biceps in response, arching her back again. 

It was just enough movement for his pubic bone to scrape over her clit. 

“Oh…!” she gasped, breaking away. “Do that again.”

He did and she whimpered, jolting like he’d electrocuted her. But that was all he did and she hissed in protest.

They lingered there, both of them panting, breathing each other’s air, their lips barely touching.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Oliver promised raggedly. “One chocolate… one hickey.”

Her face shifted under his and he knew she was frowning. It wasn’t even about the chocolates at this point, she was just annoyed with him. And he loved it. He loved how cranky she was these days, how amorous, how loving, how she went from snapping at him to whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Oh, it absolutely annoyed the hell out of him, too, but it also felt like he’d gotten everything he could have ever wanted… and things he didn’t even know he needed.

The promise he made to the Monitor floated in the back of his mind.

Oliver shoved it back down. There was only the here and now. There was only his beautiful, irritable, pregnant wife in his arms and the fact that she was pissed at him about chocolates of all things despite the fact he was buried deep inside her.

Love swelled in his chest, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

“Felicity,” he murmured against her lips.

He kissed her, small, wet butterfly kisses before he gripped her tight and pulled out of her. Her toes curled against his side again and he leaned back to watch the sensations wash over her. She’d told him sex was different now, in a good way. In a very good way. He thrust back into her, but it wasn’t nearly enough. 

He set up a slow, steady rhythm, fixated on her reactions. 

Which is how he knew she wasn’t convinced about the chocolates.

Shaking his head, Oliver mumbled, “Say yes, Felicity,” before setting out to convince her, working his way back down her throat. He was going to hold to his promise to help her, damn it, even if it meant her wrath coming down on him. Even if it meant hours of sexual torture. He grinned against her collarbone, nipping her there before moving down her chest again. 

Her breathing changed as he reached her breasts.

“Say yes,” he whispered against the top of one plentiful mound before he dipped down to take her nipple into his mouth. He wasn’t gentle and she jerked up into his mouth with a sharp cry, her eyes slamming shut as her her head crashed back into the tile. Oliver grimaced and asked, “Are you okay?” but she just blindly shook her head and grabbed his face, shoving it back down to her nipple. On a chuckle, he did as she ordered, wrapping his lips around the little bud again. He sucked and licked, brushed his teeth over it, something that sent electric need shooting through her. Her silken walls clamped down on him again in quick bursts that told him how aroused she was at the moment. He knew he could make her come from her nipples alone - another new thing, something he really, _really_ was enjoying - but he didn’t want that. Not right now at least. Oliver let her go and as she growled his name, he repeated, “One chocolate, one hickey.”

“Oh my god, fine, fine,” Felicity cried. “Just don’t stop. Get back down there, get…!”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

Oliver’s mouth found her other nipple as he started pounding into her and her voice broke off on a cry that echoed through the bathroom. 

It was an assault in every way possible - she was powerless to do anything but feel as he sucked at her nipple, as he thrust into her, his hands gripping her ass cheeks, yanking and tugging. She scrambled against the wall, one hand falling to the tile for leverage, her hips angling for him to rub her clit, to get that delicious friction he knew would have her eyes rolling up, but there was nothing for her to hold on to. 

Nothing but him.

There was only this moment, only what he was doing to her, and even as she gritted out his name, begging him to give her more, he stayed steady, knowing it would pay off.

It didn’t take long.

He heard the minute shift in her breathing, the new hitch in her voice as she whimpered and whined for him, felt the desperate dig of her nails against his chest and shoulders as her hands scrambled over him now for something to cling to. Her head fell back against the wall with another thud, but he didn’t stop this time, not as her cries grew breathier, more drawn out, more needy. She trembled in his arms, her legs quaking, her hips arching up in quick bursts to meet his thrusts. 

When Felicity suddenly went silent, her mouth falling open in a breathless cry, Oliver abandoned her nipple and shifted to the sensitive skin of her areola and _sucked_. 

Her back bowed with a gritty shout he’d never heard before, her hands flying to his head to hold him there. He dug his teeth into her sensitive flesh, _marking her_ , knowing he was tugging at her nipple as much as playing on the vulnerable mound, pushing her higher, higher… 

Felicity came with a wild cry, bucking against him. It sounded a lot like his name, something that set his blood on fire, but it got lost in a series of broken unintelligible sounds as she flew to pieces in his arms. Her sex pulsated around him with the force of her orgasm and he groaned against her breast, his eyes nearly crossing as she clamped down on him, but he didn’t stop. He shifted back to her nipple, swirling his tongue around it as he kept thrusting into her, riding out her orgasm as much as she was. She drenched him with her juices, sucking him in deeper, the aftershocks lasting forever and longer.

When she finally went limp in his arms, Oliver buried himself as deep as he could and stilled.

He fell against her, burying his face in her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, tried to keep his mind on the task at hand. The more her soaking wet heat pulsed around him, though, the more sure he was he’d fall apart right there if she shifted just right.

“That… wow…” she mumbled. Felicity’s eyes fluttered open as she looked down at him. She was still catching her breath, her pants hot against the top of his head. “You didn’t…?”

Oliver grunted and when she wound her arms around his neck and pressed a wet kiss to his temple, he twitched deep inside her.

“I told you I’d make it worth your while,” he reminded her in a deep voice that he barely recognized. A shiver wracked her frame at the sound of it and her inner walls clamped down around him again. He squeezed his eyes shut on a curse before asking, “Can you stand?”

“I think you broke me.”

He huffed out a chuckle. “Oh, we’re not done yet.”

Without waiting for a response, Oliver slowly pulled out of her. Her whimper mirrored his displeased hiss, although he wondered if hers was more because he’d probably left handprints on her ass. He loosened his grip and let her legs slide down his arms as he bent down to let her find her feet again. Felicity held onto his shoulders, her eyes following him down, her lids growing heavy again as he knelt before her.

Raging hard-on or not, it was a fine position to be in.

Oliver crouched before her, his hands never leaving her soft skin as he she got her legs back under her. Her thighs were no longer wet with water, but with her own arousal. He couldn’t help himself. Oliver leaned in to press a kiss to her mound. Felicity tugged her lip into her mouth as she pushed her hands over his head. It slowly turned into a smile as he moved up to linger over the growing roundness of her belly. It was still oh so slight, but it was there, her stomach slowly becoming more firm. Oliver kissed her there, making her grin, and then he stood, pausing long enough to press his lips to the new hickey right next to her nipple.

“I believe I owe you a chocolate now,” Oliver said into her breast.

“Yes, yes, you do,” Felicity agreed, arching her chest into his face. He cupped her breasts, nuzzling them, making her breath hitch. “And you’re right, I would have killed you if you left that thing on my neck.”

“Did Felicity Smoak actually just say I was right about something?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Oliver laughed, finally standing up. His back let out a little twinge, but his body immediately moved to compensate for it. If he could still jump from rooftops, he damn well could still hold his wife up against the wall for shower sex. 

With a happy hum, Oliver kissed her. She grinned against his lips, pushing her hands up his neck, cupping the back of his head as she arched up onto her toes to get closer. Her wet body slipped over his and he groaned, damn near falling into her when his cock slid against her protruding stomach again. He was still wet from her and it was a heady combination that had him thrusting his hips towards her as the kiss grew in intensity.

They stayed like that for a moment, enjoying each other, drinking from each other’s lips.

“We’re gonna lose all our hot water,” Oliver mumbled.

Felicity just mewled, lifting a leg to wrap around his, arching her hips closer to his.

“Turn around,” he whispered into the kiss before gripping her shoulders and spinning her away from the spray. 

She immediately moved to the far wall and braced her hands against the tile, leaning over. The sight she made was absolutely stunning and it had his cock swelling even more. Oliver gripped himself, groaning under his breath as he stroked his length a few times, his eyes glued to her ass. It was getting bigger, just the tiniest bit, and he _loved_ it. As much as she probably shouldn’t be eating as much chocolate as she was, he had absolutely no complaints about the weight it was adding. She hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, and he wasn’t about to, but oh he loved it. 

Oliver dipped down slightly to line himself up with her entrance from behind.

Felicity pushed up onto her toes to give him more clearance and he splayed his free hand over her lower back. He pressed his fingers into her spine, sliding it down to tug at one of her ass cheeks. Her breath caught and she looked back at him over her shoulder.

The second their eyes met, Oliver found her soaking entrance and thrust home.

It was too hard, too forceful, and Felicity cried out, her arms buckling against the wall. Oliver was there in the blink of an eye, catching her. He blanketed his body over hers, wrapping her up in his embrace, digging his forehead into the back of her neck.

He wasn’t going to last.

Growling under his breath, Oliver banded an arm around her chest to anchor her to him and slipped his other hand down over her stomach and between her legs. She was so wet, drenching his fingers, letting him slip over her swollen clit with ease. Felicity choked out his name at the touch, her arms buckling even further, and she stumbled into the tile. Oliver followed, effectively pinning her chest and his arm to the wall. There was just enough space for her nipples to scrape the chilly tile and when they did, she let out a broken moan. Shoving her forehead against the wall, she sprawled one hand out next to her head and reached down with the other to grab his arm where he cupped her sex.

He pushed his fingers down to where his cock had her spread wide open. 

With a shudder and a rasped, “Oh god,” Felicity shoved her hand down to join his. She tangled their fingers together, making the most beautiful sounds in time with his growl of pleasure at the sensation of their fingertips brushing their sensitive flesh. 

Especially when he started moving inside her. 

Oliver nudged her wet hair out of the way with his nose before burying his face in the back of her neck. He opened his mouth to taste her salty skin, but all his concentration was on the heat between her legs. She pushed her hand further back, her nails grazing his wet length and then his balls. He choked out some sort of noise, a curse and her name all rolled into one, breathless and needy and desperate.

 _Shit_ , he wasn’t going to last. 

He still wasn’t used to this, he realized, used to having her, used to being home with her. He’d been so positive that he would never get to share anything like this with her again - never get to be with her again - during those long months in Slabside. So much so that the self-control he used to pride himself on was practically non-existent anymore.

“ _Felicity_ …”

Oliver yanked his hand back up to her clit and started rubbing, hard. She cried out, her fingers curling on instinct, right against where he thrust into her. A strangled cry escaped him and the sharp pleasure-pain combination nearly had his knees buckling and he leaned on her further, concentrating everything that wasn’t focused on the white hot burn coiling at the base of his spine on his hand.

“Felicity, please… please…”

He begged her to join him, to come, whispering how wet she was, how hot and tight, how he needed to feel her fall apart around him, how he couldn’t last. She whined as he rubbed faster, harder, growling as her clit stiffened, her pleasure building. His babbles dissolved into random words, random fantasies, his own words fueling his desires as much as hers.

A pitched cry erupted from her and it sent him over the edge.

With a shout against her skin and a sheet of white, Oliver came. His hand between her legs instantly stiffened, cupping her completely as he spilled into her, holding her up against him as his hips pistoned, riding the pleasure crashing through him. 

His hard grip had his fingers pinching her sensitive little pearl and it sent her careening over the edge right along with him.

When Felicity finally collapsed against the wall, Oliver followed her, damn near crushing her. He instantly eased back and, despite his legs feeling like jelly, stood up, bringing her with him where his arm was still wrapped around her chest. Letting her sex go, Oliver braced his other hand on the wall so he could pause there. He held her close, his face buried in her shoulder, her inner walls pulsing around him where he was still buried inside her.

It took him a long moment to finally feel the water starting to run cold at his back.

He wanted to move, to turn it up so they could both clean up and get out of there before they became actual walking prunes, but his wife was pure liquid in his arms. She clung to his arm around her chest, her head rolling back onto his shoulder, her eyes shut in surrender, her skin beautifully flushed with pleasure. 

It was divine and he didn’t want to move.

Neither of them had anywhere to be for at least a few hours.

“I think,” he breathed, moving his face up so his lips met her ear, “we should go back to bed and let the water heat up again.”

All Felicity had in response was a barely audible mewl as she turned her head to nuzzle him.

“Yep,” Oliver decided. “We’re doing that.”

“Okay,” she said simply.

He turned the water up, wringing every last drop of hot water he could so they could at least rinse off before he had them both out of the shower and in towels. When she tried to dry herself off, he batted her hands away and did it himself. He took his time, especially when it came to dropping kisses on her stomach. He only stopped when her giggles had her curling in around him and then it was only just to migrate them back into the bedroom and their still-unmade bed.

As Felicity fell back onto her side, she said, “Chocolate.”

Oliver winked. “On it.”

Securing his towel around his waist, he jogged out into the living room, going for one of the many hiding places he’d managed around the loft. This particular one was higher up in a cupboard and when he pulled out the single chocolate, an exasperated sigh sounded behind him.

He looked back at Felicity where she peeked around the corner.

“Did you seriously split the box up?” she asked, stepping out into the open, her hands on hers hips. She was still gloriously naked.

“I’m not an idiot,” Oliver replied, closing the distance between them.

Felicity pointed at him. “I’m going to find them. Mark my words.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you’ll try.” Oliver stopped before her and presented the chocolate to her on the palm of his hand. “But you’ll fail.”

Felicity snatched it out of his hand. “Oliver Queen, you have failed this pregnant wife.”

He laughed. “I don’t know, I think I’ve done a pretty good job keeping her happy.”

The words weren’t meant to be so heavy, to have so much meaning, but they did. 

Both of them paused as they resonated between them, echoing back through the last few months, through his months in Slabside, but also beyond that. Way beyond that, all the way to the beginning, and not just the beginning of them, but for them individually. They’d been through so much, _done_ so much, and yet they’d managed to find themselves here, married and pregnant and…

 _Happy_.

“Yes, you have,” Felicity agreed with a soft smile stepping closer and cupping his jaw. She kissed him. “Except when you steal my chocolates.”

“Per your request.”

“ _No_ ,” she retorted, but he covered her lips with his before she could continue.

Oliver spent the rest of the day distracting her from the argument… 

Until she distracted him and managed to wrangle two more chocolates out of him.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/183587767614/forever-im-yours-forever-i-do-olicity-s7)


	10. Sweet and Fiery (7x17 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity talk about Mia. (7x17 spec based on promo pics)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a random attack of fluff.

There were things he was supposed to be doing. 

The team was on their way. He had weapons to gather, plans to put together… 

But all Oliver really wanted to do was watch his wife. 

It was his favorite pastime. It had been for a long time, but it’d been easier to fight it before. Now, he treasured it, knowing how special their time together was.

“These things are amazing,” Felicity said. “I can’t say I ever thought I’d be a fan of ginger candy, but here we are. And I am a big fan. Huge. I should send Lyla a gift basket. No, she’s not a gift basket person. Oh! I could show her how I used ARGUS’s satellite last week. No, that’s too generous. I need that. But do I need it more than not feeling like I’m going to throw up every five minutes?”

Oliver smiled, not saying anything, just watching her - half to herself and half to him - where she sat at her desk in the bunker. Everything was back in working order and Felicity was currently working through the last couple of kinks. Just like old times. His chest ached.

“Will you remind me to ask John where Lyla got them?” Felicity asked, spinning her chair and pushing to her feet. She gave him a bright smile, but her eyes lit up even more when she zeroed in on the bag Diggle had given her. “Because I love them. A lot. And I need more.”

“I’ll remind you,” Oliver said quietly as she grabbed another candy.

“Thank you,” she said, sidling up next to him. Her hand found his cheek as her other arm wrapped around her middle. “Because this little thing is making quite the stir.”

“Just like her mother?” Oliver offered, his hand covering hers. He pressed his fingers between hers so they both cradled the still-flat plane of her stomach. Her face softened at the touch and he stared up at her with blatant adoration.

Felicity hummed around her candy. “More like her father, I’d say,” she said with a wink. It was ridiculously adorable, because her other eye slipped shut without her even trying, sort of ruining the effect of the wink, like always. He loved it.

He loved her.

“Sweet and fiery,” he said, his other hand finding her hip. He tugged her closer as he rolled his chair to close the tiny distance between them. “That’s what you said, right? About Mia?”

“I did,” she confirmed.

Oliver curled his fingers between hers and shifted their hands aside just enough for him to press a chaste kiss to her stomach. Her free hand cupped the back of his head, cradling him close when he lingered.

“If there’s anything she’ll get from us,” he murmured against her stomach, “it’s definitely going to be sweet and fiery from you.” 

“Stubbornness,” Felicity said and he glanced up at her with a huff, knowing exactly where she was going with that. She tapped his forehead. “She’ll get _that_ from you.”

“Cute,” he said.

“I know.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
> 
> Original Tumblr Post


	11. Afterglow (post-7x18)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-7x18. "Good morning to orgasms and buffalo wings only."
> 
> **Rated Explicit**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't that domestic!Olicity we got last night the ABSOLUTE BEST? I'm still flying high. It was glorious. Stunning. Beautiful. Gorgeous...
> 
> So naturally I wanted to add smut to it. :)
> 
> Wrote this on my way into work this morning, did a read-through, my apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> This chapter is **Rated Explicit**. It doesn't get wildly descriptive, but it's just enough.

  
[gif src](https://olicitygifs.tumblr.com/post/184217309389)

Her nose itched.

Felicity’s face scrunched up as she moved to rub her nose. Quicksand had replaced her blood. She was positive of it, because her hand was moving in slow motion and when she reached her nose, she more smacked herself in the face than scratched anything.

“Ow,” she grumbled as she accidentally shoved her glasses further up her nose.

She frowned.

Her glasses were still on. And it wasn’t just lethargy making her arm heavy, she was still wearing her damn coat. The second that registered, she realized just how _hot_ it was. With a groan, Felicity blinked her eyes open, immediately squinting against the lights that were still on. She was still on the couch. Rather, she was still on her husband. She looked down at where Oliver was sprawled out underneath her, still sitting up, her legs still in his lap. But now his face was lax with sleep, his head lolled towards her, his mouth parted with soft, even breaths.

They’d fallen asleep.

She vaguely remembered somehow maneuvering to get both boots off for Oliver to rub both her feet, and she’d stretched out on the couch, plopping them in his lap as she melted into the cushions, closing her eyes for just _one second_ …

And then she was waking up.

Felicity grumbled under her breath and pushed up into a sitting position. Her arms were completely useless. They kept collapsing under her until she finally just shoved herself up. Wow, that had been a heavy sleep. She blinked against the fog in her head, but it lingered. All she really wanted to do was fall right back into it and not move for a solid twenty hours.

But her bladder had other plans.

“Why you always makin’ me pee?” she mumbled at the baby growing inside her.

As if the little creature heard her, the need to pee became even more urgent.

Grumbling even more, Felicity slid her feet off her husband. Half-awake, she stumbled off the couch, somehow managing to not fall into the coffee table. She shrugged out of her jacket as she went, dropping it on the floor. She could barely keep her eyes open so she walked with her hands out in front of her to keep from running into anything as she made her way to the bathroom.

It was pure euphoria when she emptied her bladder, and even better when she washed her hands with ice cold water, smoothing some of it up her arms to cool off.

By the time she was out, she had woken up a bit more.

Alright, about three percent more.

“Sleep,” she whispered, going right back to the couch. She should probably do the decent thing and wake up Oliver, get him to move to their very comfortable, very _right there_ bed, but she was too tired.

And she didn’t like sleeping without him.

He was of the same mind, apparently, because when she got back to the couch, she saw he was still dead asleep and his hand was stretched out to where she’d been, like he was looking for her.

She smiled. She tried to be quiet and graceful and soft and gentle when she moved to cuddle up next to him, but instead she just collapsed onto his arm.

“Ooph,” Oliver breathed out, jerking awake with a wince.

Felicity grunted, leaning forward to yank his arm out from underneath her before snuggling up into his arms. He murmured something that sounded a lot like, “Hi there,” but she barely heard him, much too caught up in the comfort that was his _everything_. Humming, Felicity tugged her glasses off and deposited them somewhere safeish behind her, but she didn’t really pay attention. Not now that she could shove her face into the crook of his neck and breathe him in. She moaned. He smelled good. He smelled like leather and the hint of that woodsy spice from his soap and detergent. He smelled like _home_. She loved home. She loved him. Felicity burrowed further into him, winding her arms around him as he brought up lazy arms to wrap around her. She angled herself up to slip her leg between his, wanting to get closer.

_Needing_ to.

Oliver sighed in agreement, burying his face in her hair, breathing her in as his hands smoothed up and down her back. His warm, big hands. She shivered underneath them, arching her back.

His hold on her tightened as he seemed to wake up a little more.

She was waking up a little more, too.

Heat coiled deep inside her, tugging at her core with a heady insistence that just took over.

Felicity pressed her breasts into his chest, sighing when his rock-hard planes somehow soothed the ever-constant ache in them. It felt so _good_. She did it again, pressing harder, her mouth finding his pulse point. She lazily opened her lips, tasting him.

“Mm,” she sighed, licking and sucking.

Salty and delicious.

Oliver’s breath hitched, his fingers gripping her hard as he dug his face into her hair. His stubble scraped over her scalp and she arched her back again, rubbing as much of herself against him as she could.

Her sex clenched, suddenly aching with emptiness.

Felicity angled her face up to his, her nose dragging painfully against his beard, her lips following. Eyes still closed, she rooted around for his lips, her hand curling his sweater into a tight fist for leverage as she damn near climbed into his lap to get closer.

He got the hint, meeting her halfway.

The kiss was wet and messy and absolutely all over the place. She was pretty sure she had drool dried on her cheek and they both tasted like they’d been asleep for at least a couple hours, but they didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting as close as they could to each other.

His hand slid down her back to her ass. He gripped one of her cheeks in his large hand, squeezing her hard just as she angled herself for his thigh to press against the juncture of her legs.

A dull sense of pleasure spiraled out as she tried to grind down against him, but it wasn’t nearly enough as her inner walls pulsated with a need only he could sate.

With an impatient whine, Felicity shoved off him and off the couch. Her foot caught against his and she stumbled, nearly falling back on the couch. Oliver tried to move to help her with a quiet, “Whoa,” but he was just as sluggish as she was. Waving him away, Felicity’s hands flew to her pants, her fingers annoyingly uncoordinated as she grunted, “Pants.” He was blurry without her glasses, but she still saw his hands moving to undo his jeans as well. She got her button undone and shoved the zipper down before pushing the offending material down her hips as fast as she could. It wasn’t all that fast, but it got the job done, her panties quickly following. She yanked them off, one of her pant legs taking one of her socks with it, leaving her in just her sweater and a sock.

Good enough.

Oliver stared up at her with heavy-lidded, half-asleep eyes, his pants undone just enough to free his slowly-growing erection.

Felicity climbed onto his lap. She moved in languid, unsteady jerks, lacking any coordination as she straddled him. He helped steady her, his hands thick and heavy where they landed on her thighs. Now that she was closer she could see him, and she watched his lids grow heavier as she reached between them and gripped his cock. She stroked him once before angling him to her entrance. His head fell back against the back of the couch with a thud, his eyes rolling back.

She took him inside her in one smooth motion, her inner walls slick enough for him to slide home. He wasn’t as hard as he could be, but she wasn’t nearly as wet as she usually was, so she still felt every bit of him as he filled up.

A breathy whine escaped him, his fingers biting into her naked thighs.

She settled in against him, only stopping when he was fully seated inside her.

Neither of them moved.

It took her all of three seconds to realize she just did not have the energy to do what her body wanted her to. But neither did he. It still felt amazing, though, too good to stop.

Felicity rocked her hips in lazy, uneven jerks. Tiny sparks of pleasure shot through her as she moved and she cupped the back of his head, using her arms to help lift her up a little more. It didn’t work, so she settled for digging her hips down into his, forcing his lengthening cock in and out of her just enough to create a tiny bit of friction. Felicity dug her toes into the outside of his thighs, the sensation of her one naked foot and the other socked somehow adding to the slow-building pressure in her core. When she moved a certain way that let him go deeper, Oliver choked out a gasp that sounded something like her name as his hands shifted up to her hips. His fingers dug into her skin, but he was just as useless as she was, both of them too tired to do much of any-damn-thing.

He fell back into the sofa cushions, giving her free reign, and she followed, draping herself over him, burying her face in his throat as she gripped the back of the couch.

They just started rocking against each other.

His gasps for air became interspersed with low moans from deep in his chest. The erotic sounds pushed her closer to her own release, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Felicity shifted back just enough to shove her hand between them, finding her clit. When her fingers grazed over it, her mouth fell open in a silent cry as the promise of something greater started looming. She could tell by the way his breathing changed and how his hands slipped back down to her thighs to hold her too tight that he was getting close. Oliver’s thrusts up grew more frantic and messy, losing any sense of rhythm. He dug his head into the back of the couch, arching his back for more leverage, and it changed the angle just enough for her to feel more of him fill her up.

She gasped, falling against him even more, all her concentration on her hand between them.

His nails dug into her thighs, his fingers spasming, his hips jerking…

With a quiet gasp, Oliver stiffened underneath her. He came, spurting inside her, making her even more wet than she already was.

Felicity didn’t stop, rocking her hips faster, everything becoming more slippery. She was precariously close to him slipping out of her and she adjusted her hips, her thrusts becoming shorter and harder as she rubbed herself faster. She let out a breathy whine of, “Oh _god_ ,” her voice catching, her pleasure building as she buried her face in the space between his neck and shoulder. Her wrist burned, but the quick approach of her release made it easy to ignore. That, and the continued moans that fell from her husband as her movements drew his pleasure out even more.

Oliver slid his hand up her chest, finding her breast. His thumb brushed over her peaked nipple, once, twice, and then he pinched it, _hard_.

She cried out, the sound muffled against his neck, her hips moving in quicker, harder little thrusts. Her fingers skated over her clit, over and over, everything inside her building up, up, up…

Her orgasm crashed through her in a quick, fiery burst. Felicity stiffened, a tiny, breathless cry on her lips, pleasure roaring through her, all the way to the soles of her feet. And then, just as quickly as it hit, it dissolved into a delicious, low throb that radiated through her entire body, leaving her whimpering in satiation.

Felicity collapsed against his chest.

Oliver’s hand fell from her breast, landing on the side of her leg with a low thud.

Neither of them moved. They didn’t want to. Their heartbeats slowed, their breathing coming down to something more normal. She felt the mess they’d made between her thighs dripping and drying all over the place, felt him starting to slip out of her, but she didn’t move save to snuggle closer, angling her hips to keep him there. He made a strangled noise and wrapped one arm around her backside, his fingers biting into her ass as he yanked her even closer. They settled in together. Oliver pressed his lips to her temple as Felicity moved her face away from his skin enough to get fresh air, but that was all the energy they had.

They were both nearly asleep again when her stomach growled - _loudly_ \- but it had nothing on the growl his stomach let out a quick second later.

He grunted. “Food.”

Felicity just moaned in agreement, but she didn’t move save to nuzzle her face into his chest. “Buffalo wings,” she added, the words garbled against his sweater.

Oliver made a noise in question.

She turned her face and said louder, “Buffalo wings.” Her stomach rumbled in agreement. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want the cauliflower ones you made the other night.”

His smile was evident in his voice. “Buffalo wings for breakfast, huh?”

“What time is it?”

Oliver glanced into the kitchen at the stove. “Almost five.”

“Ugh, no, it’s too early,” she whined, burrowing into him. The move had him finally slipping out of her and she whimpered again. The _injustice_. She must have said that out loud, because he chuckled sleepily and she sighed. “Yes, buffalo wings for breakfast. Good morning to orgasms and buffalo wings only.”

“You got it,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “But you have to move.”

“No. Don’t wanna.”

“Then no food,” he replied. Felicity pouted, but still didn’t make any move to get up. Oliver rubbed her back. “How about I bring them to you in bed?”

She didn’t move, but she did go silent, thinking about it. “With syrup?”

He huffed out a laugh. “You want cauliflower buffalo wings with syrup?”

“It’s breakfast time.”

“Okay then.” Oliver hugged her tighter, his amusement obvious. “Then that’s what I’ll bring you.”

Felicity smiled and finally lifted her head. She smiled at him. “You’re the best.”

He kissed her softly before smacking her bare butt with a low, “C’mon, up.” She gave his chest a half-hearted smack in retaliation and he caught her hand, bringing it up to kiss her palm. “The quicker we move, the quicker I can get to what I really want to eat for breakfast.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow and he raised his own, his eyes darkening with promise.

“Okay,” she said, suddenly way more awake. “Yep, I’m going, I’m up.”

He laughed, helping her stand on wobbly legs. He smacked her ass again when she bent over to pick up her pants and she whacked him with one of her pant legs before he went to start the oven and she went to clean up for round two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
> 
> Original Tumblr Post


	12. Figure It Out (Season 7B)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That would never happen that way. You’d break your hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of random fluff that happens at some point in Season 7B.
> 
> Written right-quick at work, my apologies for any mistakes!

“That would never happen that way. You’d break your hand.”

The soft rumble tugged her into consciousness.

Felicity’s lids fluttered open. The room was dark and a movie she didn’t remember falling asleep to played on the television. She’d somehow gone from slouching over Oliver on the couch to being sprawled out on the cushions, leaving her husband sitting on the floor next to her. His arm rested on her thighs and his eyes were glued to the screen.

“Now, there, that was better,” he said to her stomach. His hand rested on her growing bump, his thumb rubbing slow circles. “But that, did you see that? People don’t move like that in real life. What you’d wanna do is punch that guy first, kick the other guy’s knee, and _then_ elbow him. Use your own body’s momentum as much as theirs. You’re only as good as how much you know how to move… Well, that’s just stupid, nobody does that. Do people actually buy this?”

She tried to smother her chuckle, but she failed.

Oliver’s head whipped to her. A rosy pink colored his cheeks. “Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay,” she mumbled. She stretched from her back down to her toes before covering his hand. “Guess it’s a good thing they’ll have you to teach them the proper way to fight then.”

The color in his cheeks spread and he ducked his head. He wasn’t fast enough to hide the shadows that filled his eyes, though. Oliver settled his hand more fully over her belly.

“What?” Felicity whispered.

“Nothing,” he replied, giving her a wane smile. “It’s just… I don’t want them to have to fight.”

“Neither do I,” she said, touching his stubbled jaw. “And they won’t. Not like us. Or, rather, like you since I’m not out there throwing punches and kicks or… well, anything. You know what I mean.  We’re going to make the world safer for them so they won’t have to fight like we do, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to hide everything we did, right? Everything we do. Their father is a hero, after all.”

His skin warmed even more under her fingertips. “A hero, huh?”

“That’s what you are.” Felicity smiled. “A big damn hero. And guess what, they’re going to know all about it. And this, what we do, it is sort of integral to our lives. I don’t think we could avoid it, even if we wanted to. And I don’t want to. No, it’s not perfect, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to spin something good out of it, right? It’s just going to be part of what we teach them. And I’d rather you taught them how to defend themselves properly… You know, instead of telling them to just go up to the biggest bully and punch them in the face.”

Oliver huffed. “Will I ever hear the end of that?”

“No,” Felicity replied. “No, you will not. That was horrible advice.”

“It wasn’t _horrible_ -”

“Alright, fine, it wasn’t horrible,” she relented. “But it wasn’t exactly _Green Arrow_ advice.”

“There’s just… I don’t want the darkness to touch them,” Oliver admitted, his voice cracking. “There’s so much of it, Felicity, and I…”

“I know. I _do_ , I know. But there’s also so much good. You’ve taught me that this last year, do you know that? And… and if what happened with William is any indication,” she said and he dropped her gaze to stare at her stomach again, “then I don’t think it’s something we can avoid. This, what we do, it’s part of us. And that’s not a bad thing. We _can_ do both. We just need to figure out how.”

He let out a tremulous sigh. “Yeah.”

“And we will,” Felicity said, scratching at his jaw until he looked at her. “Starting by admitting that you’re basically already teaching our child the right and wrong to fight, even in the womb. Even as silly as it is using a really not good action movie. But it just proves my point: the Green Arrow is who you are, Oliver. You know it. I know it. And they’ll know it. And it’s better coming from us, right? We’ll be there every step of the way with them. No matter what.”

It took a moment, but he finally offered a small smile, one that reached his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Now,” Felicity said. She snuggled back in the couch and closed her eyes. “Don’t stop on my account. Mommy is going to steal another nap while Daddy teaches.”

He chuckled and dropped a kiss on her hand where it still covered his. He stayed quiet, though…

But not for long.

When her eyes started getting heavy again, she heard him snort at the television and then he turned to whisper to her stomach about sloppy form and footwork that had her falling asleep with a smile on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](https://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/184397383714/figure-it-out-olicity-season-7b)


	13. The Right Tools (S7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the Happy Months (as I’m calling them). Some fluffy silliness - Oliver and Felicity move her desk into her new office at the cabin. (Prompted by Meg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a fluff break from the extreme intensity that is Blood Hands. (I swear, every new chapter of BH I go into, I'm asking, "Okay, can we take a break here, can we breathe, can we relax?" LOLNO because things want to be intense all the time and Olicity is a lot in the best way possible and anyway, a fluff break was needed and Meg and I were talking about cute headcanons and then this fell out of my head.)

“Let me do it.”

“No, I’ve got it.”

And she did, damn it. She wasn’t going to let this thing win. Not now, not after days of looking for the perfect desk, of waiting for it to be delivered, of spending the last few hours putting it together. _She was going to do this_. It just… it wasn’t supposed to be this _frakking heavy_.

Felicity hissed as the edge of the desk bit into her fingers, but she didn’t let go.

Never give up, never surrender.

She curled her fingers, tightened her grip, and shuffled back into the little room that was going to be her office.

Their new cabin wasn’t huge, not that they needed huge. It was more than enough for her and Oliver, with space to expand. They were going to make one of the rooms a nursery for Mia. Oliver already had plans to convert part of the garage into a training space. And then there was the space in the attic that could be converted into a large bedroom.

That would be for William.

_Someday._

A familiar pang radiated through her chest. He still wasn’t taking their calls, and every contact she and Oliver tried to make with his grandparents seemed to fall on deaf ears. But they weren’t giving up. Even if it took months, they were going to find a way to bring their son home. Or at the very least remind him that no matter what he had a place with them, and he always would.

The momentum on the desk carrying stopped.

“Oliver, come on,” she urged.

“Felicity.”

“What?” She looked at him where he held the other side of the desk. “Come on.”

“Put it down.”

“No.”

“I can do it myself, you don’t have to-”

“I’ve got it.”

“ _Felicity_.”

“Oh my _god_ , Oliver,” she snapped, finally dropping the desk. It landed on the floor with a heavy thud and she widened her eyes at him incredulously. “ _What_?”

He gently set his end down and… and then he just _paused_ at her outburst. She gritted her teeth, narrowing her eyes, waiting. But instead of speaking, he snapped his mouth shut and pressed his lips together in silent acquiesce.

Felicity rolled her eyes so hard they nearly popped right out of her head.

He’d made the mistake once of commenting about pregnancy hormones and she’d almost slapped him silly. _Hormones_. No, it wasn’t just _hormones_ , damn it. He was being _annoying_ and _over-protective_ and she was sick of it. Her stomach might be getting to the _‘oh hey wow you’re definitely pregnant there, hey, can I touch your stomach’_ \- that’d been sweet the first time and the first time only - but that didn’t mean she couldn’t lift this stupid desk and get it into her stupid office.

Oliver blinked.

Felicity groaned. “I said that all out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” he replied quietly. Too quietly. He put his hands up in supplication and she huffed. _Loudly_. “You can’t blame me for wanting to make sure nothing happens.”

“It’s a _desk_.”

“It’s a _heavy_ desk,” Oliver corrected, already moving to shuffle into the small space left between said piece of furniture and the doorjamb. She rolled her eyes again and threw her hands up in the air as he barely made it through. When he reached her, he gently tried to nudge her out of the way, but she batted at his hands. He sighed. “Felicity-”

“This is so dumb-”

“It’s too heavy-”

“You are being such a di-”

“Is it so wrong that I want you to take it-”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Felicity,” he breathed, dragging her name out in exasperation. “ _Move_.”

They stared at each other, Felicity fuming, Oliver steadfast. Neither backed down, not until Felicity finally snapped. “Fine! Fine, you stupid, stubborn _man!_ Do your _man_ thing. Be the man, lift the thing up with all your manness that your pregnant wife just cannot help you with-”

She was pretty sure he tried not to roll his eyes, but he didn’t succeed as he muttered, “Seriously?”

“Yes, _seriously_ ,” she said as he lifted her side of the desk.

She was ready to go on a _tirade_ , a huge, vicious, amazing tirade about… about his stupidity and… and other things, but… But then he started moving the desk and… and _oh_.

A flush worked its way up her chest and neck, flooding her cheeks with warmth as she watched him work. It didn’t take a lot to remind her how gorgeous her husband was. Especially when he did things like this. Felicity swallowed hard. She was positive he was using his attractiveness against her. When she’d accused him of such during a recent argument, he’d told her she was being ridiculous, which she was absolutely not. He was probably doing it right now. Using his hotness as a sexy argument-winning weapon. And she should be mad about that. But also… he was doing sort of fine. He still huffed and puffed - that desk was _heavy,_ and she wanted to throw a good ol’ “A-ha!” at him - but there was muscle. Lots and lots of bulging _muscle_ , all bunched up under his newly-tanned skin and…

Wow, she loved white t-shirts, had she mentioned that before?

He snorted.

Felicity wondered if she was thinking out loud again. Not that it mattered, because he looked really good in white t-shirts, especially when he had to lift heavy furniture.

Or rather, _drag_ it.

“Don’t scratch the floor,” she told him.

“I’m not,” he retorted with a little more bite than she was used to. Okay, maybe it was warranted considering he was covered in sweat and his face was red with exertion.

_The muscles_ on this man.

She pulled herself out of her reverie. _Seriously, self, be less of a cliché._

“You _will_ scratch the floor if you don’t lift it, like… Yes, like that, good job.”

He rolled his eyes, but his sense of self-preservation kept him from saying anything.

Felicity watched him slowly scoot it into the corner where they’d decided it would go.

It was going okay. More than okay, actually, not that she would tell him that, but she did feel some of her aggravation bleed away as she watched him shove the desk into place…

And not move his hand fast enough.

Oliver smashed his fingers between the hard edge and the wall.

“Oh, _fu…!”_ he growled, immediately yanking the desk back just enough to rip his hand out of the spot. His skin was already bright red and she could see the groove where the desk had crashed into his digits. “Son of a…”

“I told you!” was the first thing out of her mouth.

Oliver threw her a disbelieving look. “Really?”

“Well, I did,” she replied as he shoved two of his fingers into his mouth to assuage the ache. His face morphed into a mask of pain that had her melting before she knew it was even happening. “Oh okay, come here,” Felicity said, moving towards him. He made a face at her, his lips still wrapped around his fingers before turning away. “ _Oliver_.”

“No, you’re being mean,” he said, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

“I am not,” Felicity replied, grabbing his shoulder and turning him back around to face her. He didn’t fight her and when he was facing her again, he let his hand fall from his mouth, leaving an incredibly pathetic attempt at a sad face in its place. She raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s being mean?”

Oliver scrunched up his nose at her.

“Lemme see,” Felicity said, holding her hand out for his. He plopped it in hers and she examined the damage. The skin was still damp from his mouth, and it was still incredibly sensitive from the hit considering how he whimpered, “ _Ow_ ,” when she ran the tip of her finger over the spot. “You know, for a guy who’s been shot, and stabbed, and arrowed, and tortured, and… and all sorts of horrible things-”

“I can say with confidence that getting stabbed didn’t hurt nearly this bad,” Oliver interrupted.

“Okay, Mr. Tough Guy,” Felicity murmured, bringing his hand up to her lips. She kissed his fingers, over and over, making sure to cover every bit of him that she could. His breath hitched and she smiled against his skin. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m here to make it all better.”

Oliver hummed his agreement.

Felicity looked up at him from under her eyelashes to find his eyes had darkened. He slowly licked his lower lip and the sight had another flush racing over her. This one was hotter, leaving her panting slightly, especially when it also spiraled inward. Heat tugged at the pit of her stomach and her thighs clenched as Oliver slowly curled his fingers around hers.

“Much better,” he whispered.

“Good.”

“I think I know how to get the desk back against the wall,” Oliver said, his voice low, throaty. It only had more heat cascading through her. “One that doesn’t include smashing any fingers, or toes, or…” He took his hand back and dragged it down her front, the edges of his fingers ghosting over her beading nipples. “Other very, _very_ sensitive parts.”

She managed to give him a little, “Oh?” through a choked whimper.

“Yep,” he replied before grasping her waist and lifting her up on the desk. Felicity let out a little delighted yelp as Oliver pushed himself between her thighs. Her stomach was definitely getting bigger, but it wasn’t in the way yet. Especially when he hooked his hands in her knees and lifted her legs up to spread her wide so he could press his growing hardness right against her core. She grabbed his shoulders to hold on as he arched his hips closer with a rasped, “We’ll just scoot it right back in there.”

Felicity chuckled, a husky sound that had his eyes dropping to her lips.

“That is a very, very… very good use of the tools we have at hand,” she agreed.

“Right?”

“Mmhmm,” she managed before she pulled his face down to hers.

The second her lips slanted over his, they were done for.

(And it did work. Sort of. Well, okay, not really, because Oliver had to reposition it completely when they were done.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!
> 
> Original Tumblr Post

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.


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